Persona
by OrdinaryStory
Summary: It's been twenty years since Sarah defeated the Labyrinth, and she's completely happy with her life. The only problem is, her husband is sick. What secrets will she learn as he fights for his health?
1. They're Just Memories Now

_Disclaimer and author's notes at bottom._

**Summary**: It's been twenty years since Sarah defeated the Labyrinth, and she's completely happy with her life. There are no lingering dreams of Jareth, no persistent goblin sightings. Ironically, she's happily married and the mother of two girls. The only problem is that her husband is falling sick--rapidly. What secrets are going to come out as he fights for his health? Is he who his loving wife thinks he is, or someone completely different--someone from her past?

_Persona- __the mask or façade presented to satisfy the demands of the situation or the environment and not representing the inner personality of the individual; the public personality_

Chapter 1: They're Just Memories Now

Sarah seldom thought of the Labyrinth and its ruler.

Her thoughts mostly stayed on her family and her job. She had delegated herself long ago to the role of 'perfect wife and mother.' She worked as an editor for Goldlettering Publishing Company and spent her free time diligently cleaning her house and caring for her daughters and husband. Sometimes her mind would stray and land on trivial subjects such as her need to buy new socks or how her tuna casserole compared to the neighbor's, but never on the Underground and its inhabitants unless she was plagued with a mild case of insomnia.

The insomnia came about irregularly yet undeniably. It always occurred in the week before her birthday and the few days before she completed her Christmas shopping. Often it would come about, almost conveniently, when someone near her became sick. Once, when her oldest daughter's midterm announced she was failing three of her classes, Sarah didn't sleep properly for three weeks. Another time, her half-brother Toby broke his arm and she had lain awake for hours every night until his cast came off. There was no logical reason for it—Toby was fine, and everyone, Sarah included, knew it.

Occasionally, it would happen for no reason at all. She would watch a movie and then have to lay awake all night, sometimes for over a week. The same also occurred with manuscripts she was given at work. There was no reason to it—some of the manuscripts that affected her so were wonderfully written and hardly needed her skills, and others were like blobs of words and punctuation randomly tossed onto a piece of paper.

These were the only times she thought of that amazing adventure when she had been fifteen. Her thoughts would start out on the movie or the manuscript for an hour or two and then change drastically. Sometimes her mind would play through it like a mind-movie, sometimes it would go through it in words, like a mind-book. Other times, she would just think about the friends she made, and the Goblin King. This would lead her to the guilty realization that her husband reminded her of Jareth, even in his name—Jared.

She had met Jared the summer after, when she was sixteen. Her father and Karen had decided they wanted a vacation—epically referred to as Toby's First Trip to the Beach. That vacation was often spoken of in their household, and never because it was when Sarah first met her future husband.

Jared had lived with friends near the beach they went to. When Sarah first saw him walking along, near the water, she was certain he was Jareth, the Goblin King. She had stood up and cautiously made her way down the beach.

When she got nearer, she could see it wasn't him. He was much younger, his hair was a darker shade of blonde, his eyes were both blue, his skin was tanned to a bronze color, and his lips weren't as thin. Intrigued, Sarah introduced herself. For the rest of the trip, all of her time was spent with him. Karen was obviously thrilled that Sarah was 'dating,' or doing the on-vacation version of it. Sarah's father had tried to act disapproving, and had spoken to her quietly about what would happen when they returned home, but Sarah thought he was secretly glad, too.

Sarah herself tried not to think about leaving the beach and her time with Jared—it was her first relationship and it was moving quickly. The night before she went home, he promised her it wouldn't be the end.

He called her the day after she got back home, and continued doing so until his eighteenth birthday. On that day, he knocked on her door instead.

Sarah was still seventeen then. She begged her father to let her move into Jared's apartment with him, but he strongly opposed the idea. She couldn't really blame him for that, but she resorted to immaturity and refused to speak to him for over a week, which really only served to strengthen his resolve.

When her eighteenth birthday finally did come along and her father had no more control over her life, she moved out. She and Jared were married the next summer. Two years later, their first daughter was born.

* * *

Sarah wondered if she would have fallen in love with Jared if she had not met the Goblin King. She always came to the same depressing conclusion: no. She doubted she would even have spoken to him if she hadn't, and she was ashamed that most of her physical attraction towards him stemmed from her memories of Jareth. She did love him, but she felt as if she was continually deceiving her husband.

Sometimes, she entertained fantasies of Jared _being_ the Goblin King, but always with immense guilt. She knew she wouldn't trade her husband for him, but the concept of imagining it led her to being ashamed and disgusted with herself.

* * *

_Disclaimer: I still don't own Labyrinth, and I won't be obtaining it for the duration of this story, so this applies to all chapters._

_Author's Notes: I am writing ahead with this story, so as to avoid forcing it as I did with my last one. The chapters are short, I know, but that's how it's coming out. I'm no more in control of it than you are. I would love to hear what you think of it. :)_


	2. Spilled Soda

_A/N: Thank you all for your reviews. :)_

Chapter 2: Spilled Soda

Sarah rolled over and wildly swung her hand out, hoping to hit the buzzing alarm clock. She didn't.

Sitting up, she reached for the button on top with a sigh. She found it to be ridiculous that children had to wake up and go to school earlier than their parents had to go to work.

Abigail and Melanie set their own alarm clocks, but Sarah slid out of bed to make sure they were awake anyway.

She knocked on the door of Abby's room first, and was rewarded with a call of "I'm awake!"

When she reached Melanie's room, the sounds of movement and music greeted her. She didn't pause to knock, and instead, started down the stairs.

* * *

"Have a good day!" Sarah called as her daughters ran out the door. Neither of them shouted back a response. Although neither would admit it, they were excited for the first day of school.

After locking the door behind them, she hurried back to the white-tiled shine of her immaculate kitchen. She quickly washed the breakfast dishes and put them away, all the while watching out the front window to make sure Abby and Melanie made it onto the bus—Abby, at fifteen, was starting her sophomore year at Kingswood High. Melanie, who just turned thirteen the month before, was going into the eighth grade. When the bus stopped at the middle school, Abby would transfer onto another, which would take her to the high school a few miles away. If they knew she still peeked around the white curtains and the small potted plants on the window sill to watch them, they would be angry with her and point out those things as declarations of maturity.

Sarah knew both of the girls were more mature and responsible than she had been at their ages. She'd been fifteen herself when she had wished Toby away to the Goblin King….

Sarah had never let either of her daughters read Labyrinth. She knew it was an asinine thing to do when she could share such a wonderful piece of literature with them, but she would have been certain the bad luck of them wishing each other away would befall her.

She reflected on how different they were from her as she wiped off the table and put away the butter and syrup. She had instilled a love for reading in them at young ages; their teachers had been amazed when they learned Abby and Mel could read even before entering kindergarten. But neither of them held their mother's love for fantasy tales. Abby preferred romance novels and Melanie read mainly mysteries and adventure stories. They both had full bookshelves in their bedrooms and frequently borrowed from each other, although Abby enjoyed Melanie's books more frequently than Melanie enjoyed hers. "You'll like them someday," her sister frequently told her. Neither of them looked as much like Sarah as casual acquaintances claimed they did. Abigail had Sarah's dark, shining hair and light green eyes, but her mouth and nose were purely her father's. Melanie was a bit opposite, with Jared's blue eyes and blonde hair and Sarah's mouth and nose. Her entire facial structure was like Jared's, thus leading Sarah to see more of him than herself in their youngest daughter.

Sarah cast another glance out the window. Melanie's purple backpack was just disappearing up the school bus's steps.

Satisfied that she had returned the room to its previous neatness, she padded up the stairs in her worn blue slippers.

The master bedroom, its bath, and the study took up the left side of the upstairs. Abby's bedroom, the shared bathroom, and Melanie's room were on Sarah's right.

She pushed the door to her bedroom open and walked over to the bed. Jared's body was silhouetted under the sheets—Sarah often wondered how he could sleep with his head covered.

She pulled the floral-printed sheet off his face and gently kissed him until he opened his eyes and stared blearily up at her.

"Do you want to get up? I'm going to go shower and leave for work," Sarah whispered. There was no reason not to talk at a normal volume, but the comfortable darkness of the room subdued her. The only light, grey and tenuous, came from the two windows on the far wall.

Jared rolled over and covered his face again. Sarah took that to mean no. He usually got home from work at 2:30 AM and slept until ten or eleven, but sometimes he chose to get up when she did. However, the restaurant at which he bartended occasionally hosted parties and needed the bar to stay open later. He had called the day before to tell her he would be late for that reason, but, when not suffering from the insomnia, she was always asleep long before he got home anyway.

Sarah took her time in the shower, knowing that if the girls hadn't had school, she would be asleep for another half hour.

"They go shhcaaho?" Jared mumbled as Sarah reentered the bedroom fully dressed. The soft, early morning light from the windows had brightened while she had been in the bathroom.

"Yeah," she responded, assuming he meant 'school.'

"They'll come back again," he sleepily noted.

"I certainly hope so." She stood in front of her dresser, looking into the mirror above it while putting simple gold stud earrings in. The next comment her husband made was completely unintelligible. Instead of replying, Sarah went back into the bathroom to apply a basic coat of makeup before leaving.

"I'm going now. I'll probably bring something home for dinner." Sarah touched the tips of her fingers to his on the way out, doubting he was even awake enough to hear her.

She generally got off work at five, and Jared didn't have to be at work until seven. Abby and Melanie would be home around three thirty. During school, Sarah encouraged them to spend that time with their father—it always seemed to her that they didn't spend enough time together. The only time her encouragement took effect, however, was when they had homework they couldn't figure out on their own.

* * *

"How was your first day?" Sarah prompted, sitting the pizza box on the counter and reaching into the cabinet for paper plates.

"It was good, but I have math first period." Melanie slid into her usual seat at the table, beside Jared. Her sister dropped into the seat on his other side.

"That's an awful way to start the day," Jared commented. Neither of the girls exactly excelled at mathematics. That was another of the few ways they were like their mother.

"Yeah," Mel replied inattentively as Sarah sat two plates on the table. She headed back to the box to get Jared's and her own.

The sudden, intense fizz of a spilled soda greeted her ears. Everyone went silent.

"Uh oh," Melanie meekly commented. Sarah turned around to see the table dripping pale green Mountain Dew in all directions. She inwardly marveled at how the small amount a can held seemed like much more once it left the can, before jerking open a drawer and grabbing for dish towels. She tossed a handful of them at the table, hoping her family would think fast enough to catch them before they landed in the fizzy mess.

Abby and Melanie stood up and moved away from the table, grumbling over their wet, sticky jeans.

Jared moved away. His clothes were dry. The drink didn't drip onto his chair until he had taken three steps back.


	3. Nighttime Wonderings

_A/N: Again, thank you for reviewing, favoriting and adding to alerts. :)_

Chapter 3: Nighttime Wonderings

By Friday, Abby and Melanie were complaining about school again. It was the natural order of things, really, but still a slight annoyance to their mother. She was certain they would be faking sick in less then three weeks. It came sooner and sooner every year, but this time, Sarah was also vaguely concerned about Abby skipping school instead. Her friends were beginning to get their licenses and drive to school, which is basically an invitation for them to leave again. Skipping was, for most people, just part of the high school experience and Sarah was sure both her daughters would get around to it at least once, although she never did. She hadn't had many friends to do so with. Most of her time, starting the summer after her sophomore year, was spent talking to Jared.

Her best friend had been a short, frizzy-haired girl named Elizabeth. Liza didn't really have any friends other than Sarah, but she hadn't been bothered by it. She spent her time working on science fair projects and solving equations. By the end of their senior year, Liza had accumulated forty-three science projects she would never get to use.

In an attempt to turn her thoughts elsewhere, maybe to some more productive subject, Sarah got out of bed. It was 3:51 AM, and Jared was sleeping soundly beside her. She paused, sitting on the edge of the bed, to listen to his deep breaths, which sometimes altered themselves into soft snores.

She slipped her feet into her waiting slippers and wrapped a pale blue robe around her. She remembered both had been in a gift set Karen had given her a few Christmases before. The robe had fared much better than the slippers, probably because Sarah only used it when she couldn't sleep and didn't want to just lay in bed.

She paced the length of the bedroom, confident that she wouldn't wake Jared. She couldn't think of any reason for not being able to sleep, not even an unreasonable one. Sometimes that happened, thankfully only for one night at a time. She would resume her normal sleep cycle the next night. She would even get to sleep in, with it being a weekend.

Those thoughts did nothing to calm her. She was trying to avoid thinking of the Labyrinth, which was the only lullaby that worked on nights like this. It would fight its way into her mind sooner or later, but putting off the shame and distress was the only way she could avoid hating herself. If she welcomed the thoughts and fantasies of a man who wasn't her husband, the man she would always subconsciously regret turning down, the guilt would intensify to a frightening degree and she would never forgive herself.

Sarah forced herself to muse over Abby's request for a cat. There was no real reason why she should say no; Sarah missed having a pet. Her old dog Merlin had, of course, died many years ago, when she had been eighteen. She had left him with her father and Karen when she moved out, something she would always lament. She hadn't had a choice—you can't keep a big, rambunctious sheep dog in a fifth floor apartment, but she wished she would have found some way. He had been her faithful and loyal friend since she had been six, and she left him to live his last days in a lonely, cold garage with no one to play with. Occasionally, he would be let in the house or taken for a walk, and sometimes Toby was allowed to play with him. Being that he was only four years old at the time, Sarah doubted Merlin had gotten much enjoyment from it.

Sarah decided she would stop by the animal shelter on her way home from work Monday. The responsibility of a cat might be a good thing for Abby.

Then her thoughts did fall on the dreaded and anticipated subject. Still pacing the room, she wondered about the Labyrinth. Was it the same? Had there been changes? What was Jareth like now? What about her friends, Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus? After she returned home, she saw them many times. She called for them often, but they stopped coming after she met Jared. She had never really dwelt on that much; she assumed they thought she no longer needed them. Although she wouldn't admit it out loud, they were right. She missed them terribly, but she really didn't _need_ them as she once had.

Eventually, the familiar morning light rose outside the windows and Sarah returned to bed to wait patiently.

* * *

Sarah sat facing the wall of shelves. She had turned the desk chair around, mostly just to look at her book collection that now lived on the left wall of the study. Five bookcases total, tightly packed with books. They marked Sarah's life, in an absurd fashion. They told of other people, their adventures and their romances and their secrets, but many of them played important roles in Sarah's life. She could pick up and reread a book, and while devoting her full attention to it, catch slight, half-formed memories; reading this story to Toby at bedtime, reading this one while pregnant with Abigail, reading this one while Merlin lounged on the bed at her feet, reading this one while waiting for Jared to call. Her books were like other peoples' scrapbooks.

The only book of Sarah's that one could not find on her shelves was Labyrinth. She kept it in a locked box on the shelf of her closet. They key to the box stayed taped to the bottom of the master bathroom's door; if she had put it on the bedroom's door, she would have feared the constant scraping against the carpet would have torn the tape off. The bathroom door opened inward, over the tiled floor, so she dubbed it safe.

Sarah heard footsteps outside the room, going down the stairs. Curious, she got up to see who else was awake at eight in the morning on a Saturday.

She found Abby on the couch with the TV remote in her hand.

"What are you doing up so early?" Sarah sat down on the other end of the couch, noting the bag of potato chips in Abby's other hand. Not the most nourishing of breakfasts, but she chose to keep quiet.

"I don't know. Just woke up." A flippant response, indeed, as Abby began searching through the channels. "Nothing but cartoons on this early."

"Watch a movie," her mother suggested.

"I've seen all the ones we have."

"I just bought one a few days ago. It's still upstairs. Do you want me to go get it?" Sarah had watched the movie with Jared on the television in their room. The Dark Crystal, it had been. Pure fantasy—Sarah's favorite. She doubted Abby would like it as much as she had, but she would probably enjoy it. There was, after all, a vague hinting of romance between Jen and Kira.

Sarah came back downstairs, movie in hand, feeling a little better after a sleepless night. She knew how fifteen year olds operated—Abby would be frustrated if she insisted on watching the movie with her. Sarah could deal with that; she'd go make herself some breakfast instead. She had already seen the movie anyway, so there was no sense in ruining it for her daughter.

She sat at the kitchen table with a plate of bacon, listening to Abby chuckling occasionally in the next room. She focused herself on trying to recall every scene from the movie—it was better than letting her thoughts stray elsewhere.


	4. Ambrosius the Cat

_A/N: Thank you all for your reviews. I'm sorry I don't reply. Hopefully I'll get around to it sometime. :)_

Chapter 4: Ambrosius the Cat

"There you are," Jared mumbled from the bed as Sarah reentered the room. It was eleven o'clock and she felt dumpy, still wearing her robe and scuttling around in her shabby slippers.

"How long have you been up?" She started for the closet, kicking her slippers towards the bed along the way. The cream carpet felt softer on her feet than they did. She allowed herself to fleetingly ponder the idea of picking up some new ones next time she went out.

"Since you opened the door."

Sarah pulled a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of the closet and tossed them onto the end of the bed. "I'm sorry I woke you up," she said as she pulled her pajama top over her head.

"This is a nice apology." Jared reached for her as she pushed her pants off her hips. Slightly amused, she let them fall to the floor but stayed where she was.

"What?" She laughed softly at the denied, frustrated look crossing his face.

"Come here, Sarah," he held out his arms like a hungry child.

"The girls are home," she reminded him.

"We'll be quiet."

Sarah laughed, doubting they could manage that; at least not to an extent that would keep her from feeling sheepish around their daughters for a few days, but she didn't reject his offer.

* * *

Later, Sarah pushed herself out of bed and collected her clothes off the floor. Jared watched her for a moment before getting up to get his own.

For an uncomfortably long time, Sarah had thought he looked odd in jeans and a t-shirt. She had somewhat expected him to show up on the beach dressed as the Goblin King, but eventually she had gotten used to it. Of course, if she still had that problem, she would have long ago reevaluated her marriage.

"I'm hungry," Jared commented, wrapping one arm around Sarah's waist as they left the room.

"It _is_ lunchtime. Hamburgers?"

"Mhm."

* * *

Sarah sat the cat's carrier in the back seat of her car, beside the food, leash, collar, and toys she had picked up earlier.

She slipped her keys from her pocket on her way around the car. The cat's meows sounded faint through the doors, and picked up when she slid into the front seat.

The fluffy, enthusiastic cat was not the one Abby would have picked out. First of all, it wasn't a kitten, but Sarah had been told it would be euthanized probably the next day if it wasn't adopted. As cute as the little kittens had been, Sarah had felt she had no choice but to take the big, brown cat with the white ear and throat. A rambunctious, energetic kitty would have been quite a handful, anyway.

On the way home, Sarah responded to the cat's occasional meows with promises of treats and hugs.

"We're home now, kitty-cat." She informed him as she stepped onto the driveway, holding tightly to the handle of the carrier. The cat meowed in response.

"What have you done?" Jared asked jokingly as she sat it down to close the front door behind her. Sarah grinned.

"Where's Abby?"

"Watching TV with Melanie," Jared motioned towards the living room. Sarah bent down and unlatched the cat carrier's door. The big, Maine Coon-like cat bounded out and, as Sarah had hoped, sniffed his way through the doorway beside him. Moments later, happy squeals announced his arrival on the couch.

"What's his name?" Sarah asked, peeking into the room. Abby held the cat on her lap, stroking his back. The expression on his face was one of distaste, but his purrs could be heard across the room.

"Ambrosius," Abby replied.

"Ambrosius is a dog," Sarah stopped suddenly, pictures of Sir Didymus and his steed popping into her mind. It was the first time in a very long time that she had thought of the Labyrinth and its inhabitants when it was light outside. She froze, her eyes riveted on the back of her oldest daughter's head, terrified that now the thoughts would come during the day, maybe every day, all the time, and she could never get away from them.

Jared's hand slid across her back and onto her shoulder, startling her. Her eyes snapped towards him, even more shocked by the small smile on his face.

"What did you say, Sarah?" She didn't like the amused look in his eyes, nor did she understand it.

"Nothing," she claimed, mentally cursing herself for letting that slip. Even Jared didn't know about her journey into the Labyrinth—her devoted husband of nineteen years, and such a secret kept from him.

"I thought your dog's name was Merlin." He leaned closer, resting his chin on her other shoulder, his breath tickling her neck. She could hear the smile leaking into his voice. She couldn't blame him, though. He knew nothing of what she was thinking, and therefore couldn't possibly understand how serious it was.

"I wasn't talking about _my_ dog," Sarah muttered, gently pulling away from him. Abby and Mel were still exclaiming over the cat—Ambrosius, apparently. Sarah wanted out. Quickly, before Jared could reestablish his grip, she headed for the door.

* * *

Hours later, Sarah sat in the study, once again facing the wall of books. She reflected on how hard it was to hide from your family in your, and their, house. Luckily, Jared had only come looking for her once, and she had still been hiding in the bathroom then.

Sarah forced herself to get up and pick a book. She would read it and thus drive her thoughts away from the Labyrinth.

Nestled comfortably into the soft, pale brown armchair beside the room's door, Sarah began rereading a fantasy tale she hadn't read since Melanie was just starting to request bedtime stories. It had also been read to Toby, many years earlier, and Abby, a only a few years before. Her mind stayed on the story and its characters, a cast of delicate little fairies and one ungainly unicorn.

Sarah screamed and dropped the book to the floor when Ambrosius jumped onto her lap.


	5. Conversations with Karen

Chapter 5: Conversations with Karen

"When will we be seeing you then?" Karen's voice sounded muffled and distant over the phone. Sarah didn't mind too much—her relationship with her stepmother had improved drastically after her return from the Labyrinth, and even more so after she married Jared, but she did still hold against her a few indistinct insults from her childhood, and how amazingly _joyous_ the woman had been when Sarah moved out. Sarah knew and tried to understand the way she felt—Toby and Robert were her family. Sarah was _their_ family, but not strictly hers unless she reached out and made that bond with her, which was something neither of them had been willing to do.

"Around Thanksgiving—probably the Monday or Tuesday before, if that's alright."

"Of course. Anytime is alright, Sarah. We can't wait to see the girls. It's been too long." While Sarah wouldn't entirely believe anything Karen said like that about her, she did know she truly meant it about Abby and Melanie. She had always felt much more at ease with them, and they had taken to her much more easily than Sarah's real mother. That wasn't a bad thing at all, though, considering Linda Williams' blatantly sexual and irresponsible nature; that was the main reason why Sarah hadn't seen her for years.

"When will Toby be home?" Sarah sorely missed her little stepbrother. At age twenty-one, he was following Sarah's dream and becoming an actor. He had already had a few minor parts in a couple of movies, and he was currently working on his first starring role. Last Sarah had heard, they had been filming in Italy.

"Probably not until you are. We saw him a few weeks ago, just for an hour or two. He did call yesterday evening, but I didn't get to speak to him. I was at the hairdressers." Sarah suspected that was a place Karen was spending more and more of her time.

"Well, if you talk to him again, tell him to call me sometime." Sarah twisted the phone cord between her fingers, feeling awkward now that she had run out of things to say. She leaned her head back against the wall, wishing for some polite way to end the conversation.

Ambrosius watched her curiously from beneath the kitchen table. Sarah pasted on a big grin and waved enthusiastically at the cat. She felt dumb, but had to struggle not to laugh into the phone. It had taken her a while to get used to the cat's name, but thankfully, almost two months later, she no longer associated the name with her adventure in the Labyrinth.

"I'll do that," Karen responded. Sarah fidgeted in the uncomfortable silence that ensued.

"Well, um, Abby needs some help with her homework, so I'd better go."

"Didn't you say Abigail was at a friend's house, Sarah?"

"No, Melanie's at a friend's house," Sarah lied. Ambrosius watched disapprovingly from his spot under the table.

"Well, ok then. Goodbye," Karen said, hanging up before Sarah could respond.

Groaning, Sarah hung up the phone and crouched down to stare back at the large, furry cat. He had gained a lot of weight since she had adopted him from the shelter, and he hadn't been skinny before.

"Are you angry with me, Ambrosius? Do you disapprove of my lies?" She asked. The cat still stared at her. "Well I'd like to see you have a conversation with her, mister!"

"Mom? What are you doing?" Sarah looked up to see Melanie standing in the doorway, looking positively perplexed.

"Oh, um," Sarah stood up with a slight giggle. "I was just talking to the cat." Melanie nodded, obviously not consoled.

"Well, I was wondering if we're going to the Halloween Fair this year."

"Of course," Sarah responded. The Halloween Fair was Sarah's favorite yearly event. Most people wore costumes, there were games and stalls and shops, and Sarah plainly loved the atmosphere of it. It was a two-hour drive from home, but they commenced the journey every year. Jared had been taking Sarah since the year they married.

"Do we have to dress up this time? Because if we do, I need a new costume." Melanie's blue eyes showed distaste; apparently she judged herself to be too 'grown up' for costumes, but if she had to wear one, she wanted a new one.

"I don't guess you _have_ to." Sarah said, leaning her forearms on the table. She would be dressing up, herself—that was an essential part of the fun. She had gone as everything from a worm to a pencil sharpener. One year, she shamefully forced Jared into tights and a wig and called him a mystical king. He had seemed absurdly amused—many things she did seemed to entertain him greatly.

"Ok," Melanie paused, turning thoughtful. "Can I bring someone this year? Abby did last year."

"Well, I guess so," Sarah said, knowing it was fair. Unfortunately, there was only enough seatbelts in the car to fit one friend, unless they took _both_ cars, which would really just ruin the whole 'family' setting of the trip—or, 'family and one friend.'

"Thanks, Mom," Melanie flashed a smile and dashed out of the room.

"What about you, Ambrosius? Do you have a friend you want to take?" Sarah asked, leaned back to glance beneath the table again. Ambrosius tilted his head questioningly.

"Who are you talking to?" This time, Jared stood in the doorway looking bewildered.

"The cat," Sarah was now feeling ridiculous for her new habit.

"Any reason why?"

"Don't think so." She smiled as he made his way across the room and around the table to pull her gently against his chest.

"I love you, Sarah."

"I love you too."

* * *

Sarah pulled her arm back away from the darkened lamp. Turning it off before bed was a task she secretly despised; for a moment, your arm is out there, vulnerable to whatever dark-dwelling creatures that wish to grab it. And you can't even see them yet, because your eyes have yet to adjust.

She rolled over to face Jared's back. Already, she feared it would be a sleepless night. She had been tired when she lay down, but it had evaporated as soon as she closed her eyes.

Sarah allowed herself to think about the upcoming Halloween Fair. It was in just a few weeks—enough time to think of another spectacular costume and either make it or find it. She wanted something original this year, something special. She would probably give up on that hope and settle for something basic when it got closer and she had nothing, but for now, she wanted to stand out in her anonymity.

She doubted Abby would want to dress up, especially since her sister wasn't planning to. Jared had no complaints when Sarah picked out a costume for him, but he didn't go out of his way. So, unless Mel had a delightfully outgoing, enthusiastic friend, Sarah would be the only one. That didn't particularly bother her. She just sometimes wondered why her family didn't find such things to be fun, but she wouldn't hold their differences against them.

Recalling the year she had gone as a fairy, Sarah mused over her passed youth. She still had the fairy costume, but wearing it now, at her age, would simply be embarrassing. She sighed, leaning her forehead between Jared's shoulder blades. He made a soft, sleepy noise in response. She remembered being young—the times before him spent submersed in fantasy and avoiding real life responsibilities, the times before that, being her father's beloved little girl. The times after the Labyrinth, still in love with fantasy, but no longer shirking duties and expecting everything she wanted to be handed to her; the times after she met Jared, spent dreaming of growing up to be with him; the times after she married him, a remarkably trouble-free life as they worked hard and loved each other harder. Then Sarah became pregnant. It had been an accident, but something they both secretly longed for.

Sarah clearly remembered the look on Karen's face when she had learned. She had been sure to tell Toby at the same time—Karen's reaction couldn't be too drastic and horrifying if Sarah kept him near. It had worked at the time, but later, Karen had cornered her as she went into the bathroom.

_"Sarah, I want you to listen to me, now." Karen's face was filled with anger, but Sarah suspected it was somewhat because she knew why Sarah had been spending the entire day with Toby. Sarah subconsciously pushed herself against the far wall—she was somewhat afraid of Karen. She got angry, and sometimes she let her anger get out of control. Sarah had seen that happen—actually, she'd yet to see it directed to anyone else._

_"Yes," Sarah prompted._

_"You're nineteen years old. You're much too young to raise a child! You're little more than a child, yourself! Sarah, you need to rethink this." Sarah noted the change to concern in her stepmother's eyes, but chose to ignore it. She could deal with furious-Karen but she wasn't sure about furious-and-concerned-Karen._

_"Rethink this? How could I rethink it? It's already happened, and I plan to make the best of it." Sarah didn't bother pointing out her birthday was next week. She would be twenty when she had the baby…._

_"Rethink it by considering giving it up. You're too young!"_

_"I'm not giving up my baby, Karen! I'm not!" Sarah's bladder felt like it was about to burst—she could deal with Karen, she hoped, but not at the moment._

_"I want you to listen to me. Just listen and consider what I say. Sarah, you're a child. You've grown up a lot, but you're still a child at heart. You can't take care of a baby. You're not made for that kind of responsibility. Maybe when you're older, but not now. Do what's best for you and give the child up for adoption."_

_"Fine, I'll consider it, but I won't do it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like some privacy while I empty my bladder." Karen's expression turned to shock at the last sentence. Apparently, "bladder" was not an appropriate word for a young woman to use, even when standing in a bathroom._

Sarah's eyes closed, her head still resting on Jared's back. Sleep was coming tonight, even as Sarah's thoughts turned to a different conversation, later that same day.

_Sarah sneaked as stealthily down the stairs as she could. She reached the foyer, her shoes and coat beckoning her by the door._

_Karen's voice came from the direction of the living room. Unwittingly, Sarah paused to listen._

_"She just doesn't care about anything I say," Karen was complaining. Sarah sneaked over to the doorway, reasoning that if her stepmother was talking about her, she had a right to hear._

_Sarah listened through the pause while the other person spoke._

_"I know, she's married, there's no sin in it. But she's only nineteen, Mathilde. She wants to think I'm telling her these things to make her angry. She refuses to accept that I might actually care about her _

_Mathilde, Karen's friend, was on Sarah's list of favorite people. She often wondered how the two of them could be so close without becoming aggravated at each other all the time. While Karen was harsh and calculating, often cold and resentful, Mathilde was gentle and kind, and baker of the world's best chocolate chip cookies. She had always liked Sarah, seemingly more than Karen did. She had welcomed her into her kitchen to cry and eat those wonderful cookies after fights with friends, her father, and Karen, even if Sarah didn't want to tell her about it._

"_Perhaps," was all Karen said. Ashamed of herself for listening in, Sarah slipped quietly back up the stairs, and proceeded to make a ruckus going down them again. She pulled on her shoes and jacket at the door, and paused with her hand on the knob._

"_I'm going home. Bye, Karen!" She shouted towards the kitchen. She dashed outside before her stepmother could respond._

Sarah's thoughts were coming slower, a little darker and fuzzier. Sleep.


	6. There Had Been Nothing

_A/N: And again, thank you for the reviews and such. :)_

Chapter 6: There Had Been Nothing

Sarah knew she shouldn't be shocked.

It was the Friday before the Halloween Fair—it began on Monday. Sarah had left work early to work on her costume—an almost unnaturally conservative pirate outfit. She had, indeed, given up on standing out. The Halloween Fair went until Saturday, the day after Halloween, and sometimes they went that day, too. When they had first started going, Sarah had worn a different costume then, but those days were certainly over.

Sarah and Jared had decided they wanted to meet Mel's friend before embarking on a two-hour drive in their company. Obviously, they had expected her 'friend' to be female. Melanie didn't bother to tell them until they heard the knock on the door that he wasn't a friend; his name was Darrin and he was her _boyfriend_. Abby had snickered knowingly from behind her, apparently having been forced away from the television to provide moral support.

Jared had said nothing. He answered the door, welcomed the boy in, and spoke quietly for a moment with his mother. Sarah stood and made her way to the front door to join the conversation.

"Well, I've heard a lot about your daughter. She sounds like a wonderful girl." The lady was saying to Jared. She was tall, a few inches taller than he was. Her auburn hair curled down to the shoulders of her elegant-looking plum colored top.

"Hello, I'm Margaret Simon." She turned to Sarah as she stepped up beside her husband.

"I'm Sarah. It's nice to meet you," Sarah forced a smile. Acting upset with Darrin's mother would serve no purpose—it was Melanie she was angry with.

"And you've offered to take Darrin with you to a fair Monday?" Margaret asked, her chocolate brown eyes shining. She seemed very enthused about the whole ordeal—but then again, she did know.

"Yes. I must say, Melanie didn't tell us her _friend_ was a boy, but that doesn't change the invitation." Jared said, seemingly unbothered. He glanced sideways at Sarah, and she could see that he was, indeed, a trifle frustrated.

"Oh? I've been hearing about this for ages." Her thin, sculpted eyebrows rose curiously.

"Well, I'm afraid we've been left in the dark." Sarah offered another small smile, although she felt the woman was questioning her parenting. Incredibly insulting.

"Oh," Margaret said again. "Would you like for me to take him home now, or continue with the plan and I'll come back for him later?"

"It's fine, really. We don't mean to say we're disapproving, it's just that it was a bit of a shock and we were only told just as you knocked on the door."

"What time would be good, then? Five?"

"Yes, anytime is fine with us." Jared said, glancing over his shoulder and the group of teenagers in the hallway. Only Abby met his eyes; Melanie looked away and Darrin looked at her.

"Well, thanks for letting him come over. I'll be back at five." Margaret started down walkway.

"Goodbye," Jared said, stepping back to close the door.

* * *

Sarah knew she was out of luck. She wasn't going to fall asleep tonight.

For two hours, she'd tossed and turned, thinking of Melanie. Both of the girls were growing up quickly, that was for certain. Sarah could only guess that Darrin was her first boyfriend—obviously she wouldn't give up information easily. Sarah didn't like knowing Mel was keeping secrets from her. Oh, some secrets were natural and best kept untold, but there are some things that a mother wants and may need to know. Abby had been ten the first time she had invited a boy over, and Sarah and Jared had been aware of it long before. It hadn't been a relationship, of course. Ten was obviously too young for that. In fact, so was thirteen, in Sarah's opinion, but she was willing to work with it.

As far as Sarah knew, Steven was still one of Abigail's best friends and had never become anything more, but Sarah secretly hoped he one day would. Steven was a good kid; he helped Abby and Melanie both with homework and studying on occasion. He was a year older and a grade ahead of Abby. Apparently, they'd met on the playground on one of the few days fourth graders were allowed out with fifth graders.

Sarah rolled onto her back and spent a while projecting her thoughts onto the ceiling. She and Jared had spoken with Melanie after dinner, but the girl immediately resorted to defensive anger and they had gotten nowhere. It wasn't as if they were asking her to end the relationship—they wouldn't do that. They just wanted her to _talk_ to them. Mel, of course, thought they were angry because she had a boyfriend. That wasn't it; that was fine, as long as she was mature and responsible.

Eventually, her mind turned away from her family and to a very different subject. As she had many nights, Sarah wondered what life would be like now, had she accepted Jareth's offers and stayed in the Underground with him. Where would Jared be? Abby and Mel wouldn't exist, would they? Would she have had children with Jareth? Would she still see her old friends? Would she ever visit Toby and her father Aboveground?

Sarah heard Jared's footsteps on the carpet outside the bedroom. Quickly and silently, she rolled over to face the other way. Moments later, she felt the bed move as Jared lay down. He softly pressed his lips to her exposed shoulder before turning away.

Sarah closed her eyes against tears she could not explain.

* * *

Eventually, after what felt like hours of silent crying, Sarah fell asleep. The guilt was intense, crushing. He had never done anything to her, never hurt her in any way. He had never insulted her or criticized her needlessly. He'd never even ignored her unspoken wishes. She loved him. She wanted him. Not the Goblin King.

But she did want Jareth.

She wished she could've had something with him before, so she wouldn't be left with all these unanswerable questions. If there had been _something_, she could move on.

There had been nothing.


	7. The Mask

_A/N: The first half of the eagerly anticipated Halloween Fair chapters. I hope you're not disappointed. :) And also, I know I'm awful at portraying a thirty-five year old woman. Please be sympathetic; I'm only sixteen._

Chapter 7: The Mask

By the time they were twenty minutes away from the fair grounds, Sarah was practically bouncing on the seat. Her eye-patch was giving her a slight headache, but she refused to take it off until she had at least made one complete circuit around the fair.

The kids chatted in the back seat, almost too calmly for Sarah's tastes. Why weren't they _excited_?

Jared's full attention seemed to be focused on driving, but Sarah would occasionally catch him smiling slightly, presumably at her antics.

Sarah watched the trees and the grass fields fly past the windows, wishing they would go faster. She wanted to play games and eat pretzels and buy elaborate Halloween masks, and she didn't want to wait a second later to do it.

The excitement was almost too much when they pulled into the gravel parking lot, searching for an empty space among the hundreds of cars already there. Beyond the fence that encased the grounds, Sarah spotted a juggler, a food stall, and a small, deep blue tent adorned with large, metallic gold stars. Nothing that Sarah could see indicated the purpose of the tent, and she hadn't seen it there in years past—not that she could recall, anyway.

She found herself making small noises of agitation as they came upon filled parking spot after filled parking spot. The fair had just started at noon; in half an hour, that many people had arrived?

"Calm down. We'll come across one in a second." Jared said, keeping his eyes on the lines of cars on either side.

He was right. Literally a second later, they found one.

Sarah was out of the car before it was fully stopped. Her husband sent her a reprimanding glance which she chose to ignore as she hustled Abby, Melanie and Darrin towards the entrance.

Jared paid the entrance fee and Sarah hurried through the gate. Curious, she stepped towards the tent she had seen from the car.

"Come in and have your fortune told by Madame Eudocia," Jared read the sign propped near the tent's entrance, his breath falling on Sarah's cheek. "Haven't done that before, have you?"

"No. I don't think Madame Eudocia has been here before."

"You going to go in?"

"Not yet," Sarah said, turning towards the kids standing a few feet away. Sarah suspected they would attempt to sneak off on their own sooner or later, but she really wanted to keep them with her. "Come on, let's go this way." She started off to the left.

Sarah's pirate costume got a few compliments; nothing like the way people had exclaimed over her in years past. That didn't surprise her. She just wore slightly tattered-looking black pants, an equally worn red-and-white striped shirt, a pair of black boots, and her eye-patch. Her hair was sloppily pulled back, and she carried an obviously fake sword on her belt. She kept her hat hanging on the sword's handle. In fact, she saw a few people in costumes remarkably similar to hers.

In the furthest corner of the grounds, Sarah found her favorite part of the fair—the masks. The lady that sold them spent the rest of the year making them. They were beautiful. Some were basic, simply painted. Others were decorated with feathers, beads, jewels, fake flowers, glitter, and all manner of other adornments. Sarah collected them and hung them on the walls of her bathroom at home. She was really running out of space for them; Jared had allowed her two every year for nineteen years. She kept shifting them around in order to add more without cluttering the walls, but she knew she would have to find a new place for some of them soon. She wasn't looking forward to that; she loved lounging in a softly scented bath while admiring the beautiful masks.

"Sarah, I was hoping you'd come today!" The woman behind the stall's small counter greeted her.

"Of course I came, Frances!"

Sarah turned her attention to the lovely masks, hanging on the back wall, the roof's supports, the front of the counter, laying on the counter….

Her heart stopped momentarily as her eyes fell on one, nearly out of sight on the bottom of the wall.

"I've seen that before…." She whispered softly to herself, trying to place it within her memory.

The ballroom. It had been in the ballroom—it had worn by a woman who had been dancing with Jareth….

Sarah closed her eyes and was suddenly standing in the ballroom again, seeing in the same tilting, fuzzy quality she remembered. The sounds of Jareth's song competed with the noises of the fair—the popping of a balloon, "Sarah, are you ok," the fizz of a drink being poured onto ice, "What's wrong with her," the hard, running footsteps of a child, "Mom, are you ok," the _crunch_ of someone biting into their food, "Did she pass out?" The cool, autumn air had turned hot and sweaty, the scent of a room filled with too many people. She distantly felt Jared's hands on her waist, keeping her from falling, but more distinct was Jareth's fingers on her shoulder, the soft movements as they danced, his mismatched eyes watching her from so close.

_There's such a fooled heart…._ The rest of the song was lost as Sarah was jerked back into reality.

"Are you ok, Sarah?" Frances had come around the stall's counter and stood before her, holding her head up.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine," her voice sounded blurry even to her, and her words unbelievable.

"Would you like to sit down?" Frances persisted, motioning towards her white, plastic lawn chair inside the stall. Sarah had never spoken to her away from the fair, but she considered Frances more of a friend than an acquaintance. She was maybe five or so years older than she, and had apparently been selling her creations at the Halloween Fair since she had been a teenager.

Doubting she would take no for an answer, Sarah cautiously made her way around the stall's flimsy counter. Her family watched expectantly as she sat down. Were they waiting for her to fall over? Burst into song? She wished they would look away, if just for a second.

Sarah ignored the pressing urge to turn around and study the mask. She doubted that would help her situation. Instead, she admired the ones sitting before her.

"What happened there, Mom?" Abby asked. Sarah was touched by the raw concern she made no attempt to hide.

"Nothing. Just felt a little weak for a moment," Sarah replied dismissively.

"Would you like something to drink? A bite to eat?" Frances still stood on the opposite side of the counter. Sarah felt strange, having switched places with her.

"No thanks, Frances. I'm fine now." She let her eyes roam over the masks before her. A pale pink one, graced with pink and white feathers, the lips covered in glitter. A black half-face mask, edged with pearls and sporting lustrous eyelashes lay beside it. Next was a brown one, decorated with fake fall leaves in red, yellow and orange. Sarah liked that one—she didn't have one with leaves on it, she knew.

She stood up, ignoring the protests from Jared, Abby and Frances. Melanie and Darrin watched quietly from the edge of the small group. It hurt Sarah to see that Mel didn't appear the least bit worried, but she chose not to address it.

"I'm sorry about that, Frances. I'm really fine now." Sarah said, joining the group. Frances returned to her chair, muttering about unnecessary apologies.

Sarah left with the brown, autumn inspired mask and, much to her own surprise, the one from the ballroom. She hadn't looked at it when she pointed it out, asking Frances to quickly put it in a bag for her. She didn't fail to notice the strange looks she got from her family, or the way Frances looked at the mask in her hand, quietly voicing her confusion.

Sarah wondered about that. Frances made the mask. She did. She had to.

No she didn't.

She did. Or it wouldn't have been there. She made it.

No she didn't.


	8. Madame Eudocia

_A/N: Second half of the Halloween Fair chapters. And Chapters 7 & 8 were added fairly close together; if you haven't read Chapter 7 (The Mask) please make sure to do so before reading Chapter 8. :) And as always, I'd love to hear what you think of it._

Chapter 8: Madame Eudocia

"The fair's closing in about fifteen minutes." Sarah called over her shoulder. For some reason, the sentence sounded absurd to her ears. The fair, closing? But it's outside. Can you close outside?

Abby, a few stalls ahead of her parents, was buying a jack-o-lantern necklace. Mel and Darrin straggled behind, apparently doing nothing of importance other than staring at each other and occasionally bumping into other people.

"Are you going to have your fortune told before we go?" Jared asked softly. The bag containing Sarah's two newest masks bumped gently against his thigh as he walked.

"Yeah, I'd like to." The tent was visible in the darkness mostly because of the glittery stars covering it.

After a few moments of silent ambling, they reached it. A man dressed in a black velvet robe now stood outside, smiling broadly beneath his bushy, raven-colored mustache.

"Madame Eudocia is accepting one more visitor before she retires for the night. Would you like to be her final caller?" The man's voice radiated a practiced charisma as he spoke to Sarah.

She nodded reluctantly, now loath to enter as he beckoned her to do so. She froze for a moment, listening to laughter, the distant calls of bugs, the layers of voices covering everything else. The air was cool, almost cold, but Sarah was inexplicably afraid to leave it. The bright lights overhead cast strange, sickly glows over the fair-goers, which somehow felt safer to her than whatever lie behind the tent's draping flaps.

After a moment's hesitation and a gentle push on the small of her back from Jared, Sarah entered.

It was tiny. A few feet past the door, a black stool sat in front of a table. On the other side of the table sat a woman, obviously Madame Eudocia.

Sarah believed in such things as fortune telling, but the way this woman dressed made her doubt her abilities. Her eyes, seemingly purely black, were rimmed with more eyeliner than Sarah wore in an entire month, if not two. Her hair was covered by a solid red bandana, and she wore a flowing white shirt. Her skirt, made of purple velvet, was covered with small golden stars, quite like the tent. It appeared to Sarah that Madame Eudocia was trying a bit too hard to fit the image.

"Take a seat, child," she commanded in a tone that only served to strengthen Sarah's suspicions. Despite her disbelief, she did move to the small chair awaiting her. "Now tell me your name."

"Sarah," she offered, glancing around into the darkness surrounding the table. The woman's features formed to express a complex emotion which Sarah didn't care to speculate on.

"Is that so," it didn't seem like a question, so Sarah didn't respond. Then she noticed that a crystal ball sat on a small black stand on the table.

Sarah felt herself gasp, yet she wasn't sure why. She should have known there would be a crystal ball somehow involved in this.

But she hadn't. She hadn't thought of it until it was in front of her, and now she was remembering all those things she would love to have forgotten. She was thinking of him.

Sarah knew she screamed and threw herself backwards, but it took her a moment to realize she was laying on her back on the cold grass instead of dashing for the exit, then her mind stopped registering any information at all.

* * *

When Sarah came to her senses again, she was surprised to find herself still lying on the floor of Madame Eudocia's tent. Judging by the anxious expression of the stout woman cautiously leaning over her, she suspected she had only been out for a moment.

"Are you alright, child?" She asked, kneeling down, apparently to take a closer look at Sarah.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry about that. Just had a little… flashback." Sarah gently sat up, brushing the grass and dirt off her back.

"Oh? Are you psychically gifted?"

"No." Sarah mustered the strength to stand up, faintly wondering why no one, namely Jared, had come running when they heard her scream.

"Would you like to know what I saw, child? Or would you prefer to leave and forget this?" Madame Eudocia smiled sheepishly, apparently not sure how to act.

"Well, I guess you might as well tell me." Sarah politely retrieved the stool from where it had fallen, silently willing the woman to stop referring to her as 'child.'

"I see that you have many secrets. Not all of them are yours, child, but you'll soon learn your attempts are futile."

* * *

"What did the fortune teller say, Sarah?" Jared asked.

Sarah allowed herself a moment of thought before answering. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the lights of the car behind them in the mirror. She was certain Madame Eudocia was a fraud, especially with a name like that. But some fear trickled through, because of the truth in her first statement. _You have many secrets_. Sarah did have secrets, and they were all based around the Labyrinth. Of course, she had silly ones, like how she put butter in Karen's shoes once when she was thirteen, that she hadn't gone to Cassie's birthday party in seventh grade because she hadn't wanted the other girls to see her in a swimsuit, that she had taken up smoking for about a month when she had been seventeen; those sorts of things. All of her deep, dark secrets, however, were centered on the Underground and its inhabitants. But what about the rest of it? _Not all of them are yours._ Whose were they? Jared didn't keep secrets from her, she was sure of that. Abby, Melanie? Surely nothing serious. Who was left? Toby? Well, he certainly had secrets, especially if you consider the fact that Sarah hadn't spoken to him in nearly six months. Her father? Doubtful; he wasn't that type. Karen? Stepmothers are entitled to privacy. Sarah's mother? Well, yes, but she was so uninvolved with Sarah's life that it hardly mattered. _You'll soon learn your attempts are futile._ Ok, what did _that_ mean?

"Nothing interesting. Something about learning secrets." She answered vaguely.

Jared had appeared to feel awful when Sarah told him she had blacked out briefly. She could see why he hadn't heard her scream, though; he'd been a couple hundred feet away, buying lemonades and hot dogs for the kids.

He didn't reply, and Sarah was secretly thankful. She kept her eyes on the headlights in the rear-view mirror, trying to overcome her drowsiness. It generally went this way; she'd be bursting with energy up until the moment they left the Halloween Fair, then she would fall asleep on the way home. This time, however, she did not fall asleep. Listening to the yawns from the backseat, Sarah found herself becoming more and more awake, more and more worried about nothing.

She shifted positions, trying to find a more comfortable one—she had much preferred the sleepiness than this relentless unease.

Her feet landed on the bag containing her masks. Sarah winced at the sound.

"Did you break one of your masks?" Jared asked, taking his attention from the road for a moment. Sarah leaned forward and brought the bag to her lap. Cautiously, she peered inside.

"Yes," she sighed, staring at the crushed remains of the ballroom mask. She wasn't upset over the loss; she had only bought it out of a sense of duty. But it did nothing to abate her apprehension.


	9. The Scent of Roses

_A/N: Chapters 8 (Madame Eudocia) and 9 (The Scent of Roses) were added at the same time. If you haven't read Chapter 8, please go back and do so. Also, Chapter 7 (The Mask) was added not very long before these two, so make sure you also read that one. :) I'm sorry if adding them all at once frusrated or confused you. And thank you all for your reviews; please continue to leave feedback._

Chapter 9: The Scent of Roses

Sarah paused in the doorway, startled to find her husband sitting at the kitchen table. Hadn't he just been upstairs, in bed?

"Jared," Sarah asked, making her way around the table. The more she thought on it, she realized he probably hadn't been in bed—well, he obviously hadn't—and she had just seen a lump of blankets. "What are you doing down here?" She noted the empty coffee cup in front of him.

"I didn't feel well and I didn't want to wake you with my tossing and turning."

"Oh, you know it would've been alright." She leaned forward to hug him to her chest. "Go up to bed now, 'kay?"

He nodded solemnly, standing. Sarah noted he did look a bit pale….

* * *

_Jareth's fingers drummed incessantly on the arm of his throne. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, staring at the dirty, stone floor as if it contained all the world's secrets. The room was empty of goblins; the only sign that they had been here was the grimy blankets in the indentation in the floor._

_A single red rose lay across the King's thighs, glistening with some halfway invisible sort of glitter._

_Apparently now a formless being, Sarah floated towards the ceiling. Panicked, she tried to push herself down—she didn't want to go up, she wanted to stay on the floor and watch the Goblin King._

_She felt as if a balloon was tied around her shoulders, lifting her up until they bumped the ceiling. Her bottom followed moments later, so that her back was pressed tightly against the cold rocks and her toes scraped the wall. She fought to go back down; she wanted to see his face._

_Nothing was going her way. Jareth continued staring down, occasionally moving his fingers to fondle the rose. She could see only the top of his head, his shoulders, and his lap. Frustrated, she tried to scream, but no sound came out. In fact, nothing happened at all. The will to make the noise was nothing more than that; she seemed to have no internal organs, no mouth or nose._

_Suddenly, as Sarah marveled over the drastic, inexplicable changes to her 'body,' Jareth stood and flung the rose at her._

Sarah's eyes snapped open, revealing the cream-colored, mask adorned wall of her bathroom.

She glanced down at her body, now whole and naked beneath a film of bubbles. She sighed, turning her face upwards. Dreaming of the Goblin King? That was something she hadn't done in a very long time.

She glanced at the clock near the sink. 8:34 PM, its numbers said. Sarah tried to remember when she had gotten into her bath. It couldn't have been long ago, or the bubbles would be gone. She swished her fingers though the water and held them before her face. The skin wasn't wrinkled. So she had just fallen asleep for a minute or so, dreamed a short, incomprehensible dream, and was then startled awake. She reflected a moment, trying to pinpoint what exactly was so odd….

Pushing the dream to the back of her mind, Sarah allowed herself to admire her mask collection. She had found a place for the new one—the one that didn't get destroyed—directly above the mirror. Others were scattered across the walls at varying heights and intervals; an attractive disorder.

Sarah's eyes roamed over the masks; a burgundy one with rhinestone lips that she had bought the first year she went to the Halloween Fair, a cream-colored half-face mask with beautiful, realistic looking flowers sprouting off one side, a orange, red and yellow one which seemed to be made entirely of feathers….

Her eyes fell on the bottle of bubble bath sitting on the floor beside the sunken bathtub. Lavender scented.

She smelled roses.


	10. Golden Dreams,

Chapter 10: Golden Dreams,

"Are we there yet?" The call from the backseat came again.

"You know we're not," Jared responded, as he had countless times in the past hour. Sarah sighed in aggravation as Ambrosius echoed her annoyance from his place in the cat carrier at her feet. Apparently, Melanie found it _funny_ to keep asking, when she could see perfectly well herself, from the road signs, that they had just entered Virginia. It would be another half hour, at least, before they got there. They had made this trip often enough before; she knew how long it took. She also knew to bring things to quietly entertain herself.

"Shut up," Abby muttered from directly behind her mother. At seven thirty, Sarah suspected she would be putting her book down soon. The sun was lowering rapidly behind them, and the car's atmosphere was steadily becoming drearier and drearier.

Sarah had taken to leaning her forehead against the window and resting her feet on top of the cat's cage. She desperately wished Jared would let her drive; he hadn't been feeling well for about a month, yet he flatly refused to see a doctor. Come to think of it, Sarah couldn't remember him ever having gone to the doctor—or being sick, for that matter. He'd had occasional, trivial colds before, but even those failed to last longer than a day. She was worried about him, more than he realized.

* * *

"Welcome home, honey," Karen embraced her stepdaughter, almost delicately, as she stepped through the door. "Jared," She noted.

"Dad," Sarah exclaimed as her father entered the foyer. "Where's Toby?" She asked after a quick hug.

"Oh, he's taken his girlfriend out for a tour of the town. They should be back in no more than an hour, I'd imagine." Karen answered for her, releasing Abigail from a hug that looked somewhat painful to Sarah.

"His girlfriend?" She asked. She hadn't been told he was bringing someone.

"We were just as shocked, Sarah. Her name is Gaelle, and she plays his cousin in that movie he's in."

"Lovely French girl," Karen added. Obviously she approved.

"Come on, let's take your things upstairs," Robert suggested.

* * *

Sarah and Jared were staying in Sarah's old room. Karen and Robert had reluctantly allowed Toby and Gaelle to stay in Toby's bedroom, which came as quite a shock to Sarah, but there wasn't much room left in the house anyway. Abby and Melanie would be staying on the couches downstairs, as per usual, however much they disliked it.

Eventually, near ten o'clock, Toby and Gaelle, who Sarah had heard plenty about by that time, returned. The girl was positively beautiful; she made Sarah feel indefinitely old and inadequate, and her delicate accent failed to help the matter. She wasn't rude or conceited, though, and Sarah was shocked to find that she was only twenty-two, although she looked even younger. She acted mature and held an air of sophistication. She told Sarah she had been acting since she was thirteen, and after a moment of discussion, Sarah was able to recall seeing her in a few more recent movies.

Toby's full attention was focused on the girl. He had barely even greeted his sister and nieces. Sarah's feelings were slightly hurt, but she was glad he had found someone he felt so strongly for, although it was quite obviously simple lust at this point. Although, a twenty-two year old actress and a twenty-one year old actor spelled 'drama' more than 'love.'

When Karen had noticed the girls' yawns, she quickly ended the reminisce-session, sending Gaelle up to bed and requesting a word with Toby. Sarah suspected she was going to warn him of the sins of premarital sex, something even his older sister was positive he was well acquainted with. She stayed quiet; Toby's reddening face and shuffling feet were good for a chuckle or two.

Sarah and Jared followed Toby upstairs. It had been a long day. They had woken up at five, left at six, and now it was eleven, a fair bit past Sarah's usual bedtime.

The bedroom never failed to startle Sarah as she walked in. On some subconscious level, she expected it to be just as it had when she left it; floral wallpaper, vanity in one corner, bed against the far wall, her toys covering every empty space. It never was. It had been turned into a guest room, as most children's rooms are once they're abandoned. A double bed now lay against the left wall, covered with a delicate cream bedspread stitched with gold roses. The cream carpet was covered by a gold-colored rug, the draperies were made of a flimsy, golden metallic fabric, the bookshelf was painted gold, and the settee beside it was cream. In all, Karen had converted it into a rather lavish, golden room which Sarah found herself unable to appreciate.

Sarah slid off her shirt and her pants, leaving them in a heap beside the bed. She couldn't bring herself to dig through her suitcase for pajamas. She just wanted to close her eyes.

* * *

_Sarah sat in the corner of a room, watching a girl crouching over a young boy. All she saw of the girl was her back, covered in a layer of soft blond hair, and her bare feet against the wooden floor._

_"I'm sorry," the boy pleaded, covering his face with his dirty, scratched hands. Without a response, the girl pulled his small hands away and smacked him solidly._

_The boy tried to say something else, but sobbing overtook his words. Sarah attempted to move forward, stop the girl from hurting him again, but she was frozen, watching as the girl hit him repeatedly._

_Eventually she stood and went to the door. She never faced Sarah, but she could tell the girl was clean, her appearance obviously valued, whereas the boy was filthy and looked underfed._

_Sarah watched in horror as he wiped at his bleeding nose and lip. His left eye was already swollen shut._

_As she tried to move again, everything blurred together and changed._

_The same girl stood in the doorway. The only light came from behind her, turning her into a silhouette._

_"I'm sorry, Mommy," the boy's pleading voice came from against the wall, roughly where he had been before._

_Saying nothing, the girl crossed the room and knelt down. Sarah heard the smack of her hand on soft flesh._

_"You are not to call me that when we have company!" Her voice was familiar, slightly accented…._

_"I'm s-s-sorry! I… I d-didn't know." The boy stammered over his tears. The girl, apparently his mother, despite her obvious young age, stood. In the doorway she glanced back._

_"Just shut up," she hissed, pulling the door closed behind her. Sarah heard the child's muffled sobs._

_Again, everything bled together and changed. This time, Sarah found herself in a different room._

_She still stood in a corner, but this room was larger; an old but clean kitchen area was behind her, she knew without looking. Before her sat a scratched, wobbly table and four equally scuffed chairs. Beyond that, a rocking chair and a simple plaid sofa with threadbare cushions._

_She recognized the same girl at the table. She faced away from her. Across the table was a woman, her graying blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun. Her deeply lined face looked sorrowful and a certain zest was missing from her eyes._

_"You promise me you'll take care of your brothers and sisters. _Promise me_." Her tone was desperately pleading._

_"Of course, _Mère_," the girl responded, sounding distraught. A delicate, pale hand lifted from her lap to her face, and returned._

_"Promise me, please," the woman, obviously this girl's mother, stared across the table, tears running freely down her cheeks._

_"I promise," the girl managed._

_"I'm so sorry, Gaelle. I'm so sorry this has befallen you. You deserve much better, my daughter." Her hands reached over the rough and pitted wood, met halfway by the girl's._

Gaelle_, Sarah thought. _So familiar_…. She struggled to recall where she had heard the name._

_Once more, the blending and changing…._

_Sarah now stood in the far corner of the same room, watching the couch, on which sat four children. The older girl, Gaelle, stood before them._

_"Where's _Mère_?" A little girl with short blonde hair asked._

_"Our _Mère_ is dead." The girl announced indifferently. The children froze, their faces a mix of disbelief and sorrow._

_"What will we do?" The older boy asked cautiously. His arm tightened around the shoulders of a smaller boy._

_"I'll be taking care of you."_

_Again, everything twisted and blurred and was gone._

_This time, the girl sat in a different room, a tiny room. Three beds and one old, painted dresser with one missing drawer were the only furniture._

_A younger Gaelle sat on the furthest bed, sobbing into her hands. Her round stomach indicated pregnancy, despite her youth; she looked no more than thirteen._

_Eventually, her sobbing picked up and she began to hiccup. This just seemed to increase her distress._

_It blurred and was gone._

* * *

Sarah woke up cold. The air was damp and chilly, tangible, a quality only found in the early morning. Confused, she glanced around the room.

The window was open.

Sarah sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. She scanned the room completely, wishing she could shut the window, but too afraid to move. The tree outside the window—someone must have climbed it!

She leaned forward, scanning the floor for glass. None. The window hadn't been broken and opened. Did they open from the outside? She glanced over at Jared. He was sound asleep.

Cautiously, Sarah leaned down to peer beneath the bed. Nobody appeared to be hiding there, and since that was the only halfway-decent hiding spot, due to her former bedroom's regrettable lack of a closet, she deemed the room safe.

With an ungraceful hop and an equally awkward dash, she made it to the window.

She found a single white feather resting on the sill.


	11. Truthful Dreams

_A/N: Again, two chapters at once. Make sure you've read chapter 10 (Golden Dreams,) before reading this one. And I'll love it if you tell me what you think. ;)_

Chapter 11: Truthful Dreams.

Sarah fidgeted uncomfortably, poking at her scrambled eggs with a fork tine.

"Sarah dear, what's wrong?" Karen asked once more. Hurriedly, Sarah pasted on a smile and took a bite of the food.

"You seem distracted this morning," Jared commented, downing a hearty portion off his own plate. Sarah quickly refilled her mouth and shook her head, making amused sounds of denial.

She was distracted. She had shut the window when she woke up, taken another quick glance around the room, and returned to bed. The memories of her dreams had come back as she idly twirled the feather between her fingers. Gaelle's innocent face across the table made her feel a strange, distant sort of guilt for such thoughts; after all, they were just dreams. Idiotic illusions her mind had conjured up. Nothing real.

But it had all _seemed_ so real. Usually real people she transferred into her dreams looked different in some way; occasionally, they sported completely new faces. Gaelle had looked exactly like she would have when younger. And what about that French word, _Mère_? Sarah knew no French. She could only assume it meant 'mother.' For all she knew, it could mean 'sock.' So those important details would lead one to believe the dreams hadn't merely been dreams, would they not?

If they hadn't been dreams, though, what had they been? Visions or something equally ridiculous? Sarah fully believed in such things, when other people received them. She flatly refused to even entertain the notion that she could do such a thing.

"Are you sure you're ok, Sis?" Toby asked. His hand, tucked firmly around Gaelle's, sat on the table. Sarah's eyes fell momentarily on the knot of fingers, and she was instantly worried for her brother.

"I'm fine, really," Sarah replied. Glancing down at her half-filled plate, she came to the realization that she simply could not force herself to eat one more bite. "But I'm going to go to the bathroom."

* * *

Sarah sat on the toilet seat, once more twirling the feather. She didn't know why, but she had tucked it into her back pocket before going down to breakfast, and now she held it again, waiting for it to reveal more secrets. _Dreams! _They were dreams, not secrets.

Frustrated with herself, she threw the feather into the trash. It looked forlorn, nestled among the used tissues and dental floss, but she stood and left the room.

* * *

That night, Sarah was plagued by the same dream. Upon awaking, she forced it from her mind, refusing to spend another day avoiding eye contact with the house's other occupants.

She made herself sit in Karen's floral-and-pink living room and chat casually with Gaelle. She learned the girl's mother was dead, but her father was alive and she had no siblings. That proved it, certainly. Sarah hadn't dared to ask if she had children.

She told the girl stories of growing up with Toby, watching the way she giggled whenever she got to a part where the boy did something particularly cute or amusing. She seemed a mite smitten. Eventually, Abby and Melanie wandered in with pumpkin pie and added to the tales; they jointly told the story of when Karen had somehow accidentally put Sarah's name on Toby's Christmas gifts and Toby's on Sarah's. His face had been priceless when he opened his first present to find a sheer pink blouse. And then later, when he had snuck out of the room and put it on as a joke, the whole family had almost died laughing.

She quite enjoyed the girl's company, and when she went to bed that night, she desperately hoped she wouldn't dream of her again.

Her hopes were futile. The dreams came back, different this time. More forceful and sickeningly realistic.

* * *

_Again, she sat in the corner of the dark room. She heard the boy sniffling against the opposite wall. She opened her mouth to speak, offer pointless words of comfort, but it felt as if her throat was filled with glue._

_The door opened, and the girl from the other dream, the younger girl with short hair, walked in. She carried a dirty wooden tray, on which a bowl sat. Sarah couldn't see what the bowl contained, but she could tell there was very little of it._

_The girl sat it on the floor, cast a despairing look towards the boy, and left the room._

_Fade; blur._

_A young Gaelle sat at the round kitchen table, sobbing freely. Her mother sat across from her, eyes wide and terrified._

_"No, Gaelle! We can't afford to feed another mouth! You're mistaken, my daughter. You're mistaken!" She frantically screamed._

_"No, _Mère. _No! I am not mistaken," she rubbed at her bloodshot eyes. The tears had stopped, but her mother's had just started. Sarah felt immense sympathy for the woman and pity for the girl._

_"There's a chance, isn't there? There's a chance it's just a mistake!"_

_"No. _No_!" She stood suddenly, sending the battered chair skidding across the splintered wood floor. She dashed across the room and down a hallway. Sarah watched as the woman leaned on the table, each of her racking sobs wrenching her heart._

_It changed again._

_The younger children, with the exception of the tortured boy, sat under a tree. Although she couldn't feel it, Sarah knew the sunshine that filtered through the leaves and branches burned against their pale skin._

_"There's nothing we can do, Amandine. Nothing," the oldest boy said. The girl who had served the other boy glared defiantly at him._

_"Because you don't care! Defy her, for once! Defy Gaelle, what'll she do to you?" She hissed at him, holding tightly to the smaller girl, who bore a striking resemblance to Gaelle. Her lip quivered as her sister held her closely._

_"She could starve me, for starters. Start _thinking_, Amandine. There's truly nothing we can do for him!"_

_"Starve you? You're fifteen years old, you could find work easily. Don't let her rule you because it's easy, David. Don't let her!" She shrieked the last sentence and the little girl pressed her face tighter against her ribs._

_"Because it's easy?" David leaned forward, scorn showing in his eyes. "Maybe it's because it's what _Mère_ wanted! She asked Gaelle to take care of us, not me!"_

_"_Mère_ wanted this? She wanted Gaelle to torment Mathis just because he's her own son? _Mère _never would have guessed what a monster she would become!"_

_The smaller girl began to whimper, and the other boy, standing away from the confrontation, rushed to comfort her._

_"You're frightening Oriane. Please stop it. You'll just get us into trouble."_

_The girl's strong front cracked, and tears fell down her face. "You haven't seen him, David. You haven't seen what she's done to him." She let herself fall to the ground. David watched her, tears of his own falling onto the dry, sunlit dirt._

* * *

Sarah woke crying and shivering. Unsurprised, she noticed the window was open again. Without hesitation, she slipped out of bed and went to close it.

She found no feather this time, but if she had looked, she would have seen several nestled among the leaves on the ground below.


	12. Of Her Past

Chapter 12: Of Her Past

Sarah had spent Wednesday mulling over her dreams. She eventually realized that while she had no idea _why_ she was seeing such things, she did believe them to be true, although she wasn't willing to admit it, even to herself.

However, she had asked Jared about finding the window open both mornings. Sheepishly, he admitted to having opened it for some cool air both nights.

Once again, Sarah pointedly avoided the gazes of her family as they asked what was troubling her. Gaelle just watched innocently from across the table, confusing her further.

* * *

Sarah sat on a stone bench in the park, watching Abby and Mel lead Ambrosius around on his leash. Being a cat, he looked a trifle odd, but being a large cat, it wasn't laughably unusual. Besides, he needed some good exercise. Karen had been less than enthused when Sarah insisted on bringing him along, but she had relented, under a few conditions: the cat was never to be let lose in her house without a leash, it was kept away from Sarah's allergic father, and the cat's business was to be done outside, a safe distance from the house. It didn't sound like a promising trip for poor Ambrosius, but Sarah wasn't about to leave him at home without someone to replenish his food and water daily. She could have asked one of her friends from work, Claudia or Stefanie, perhaps, to stop by and care for him, but she just wouldn't have felt comfortable with that.

Ambrosius eventually became tired of it and curled up under another bench, refusing to budge.

"Think we should head back now?" Jared asked. Sarah cast a glance at the sky, noting the thick, grey clouds.

"Probably," she guessed. The forecast _had_ said thunderstorms in the afternoon, but it did feel good to be out of the house for a while. She pulled her thin, pale green jacket tighter around her body, more in anticipation of the storm than from cold. It felt quite nice out, actually. Jared hadn't bothered with a jacket and seemed to be doing fine.

"Would you mind telling me what's been wrong with you the last few days?" He pulled her back by the wrist when she stood, preparing to call for the girls. Startled, she immediately fell back.

"Nothing," she lied.

"That's not true, Sarah," he leaned over and gently kissed the corner of her mouth. "If you won't tell me, I'd like to at least know why that is."

"It's nothing, Jared. Just a few bad dreams," she kept it vague, hoping he wouldn't inquire further.

"About what?" He persisted. Sarah shook her head and stood up.

"That girl, Gaelle. Just some dreams about her and her family. I hardly remember it, which is probably why it's troubling."

"I don't think I'd trust that girl," Jared mused, following Sarah to the bench Abby and Melanie were still fighting with the cat under. Surprised, she sent him a questioning look. "I don't know. There's just something about her. I'd hardly believe a word she says."

"Is it the accent?" Sarah asked, putting on a fake French accent and sounding ridiculous. They both laughed, drawing the attention of their daughters. "Come on, we're heading back," Sarah called. Abigail picked up the large cat, who meowed defiantly but stayed still.

* * *

"Dear, you look soaked," Karen said, ushering them inside. Abby dashed up the stairs, heading for the cat carrier in Sarah's old bedroom. Ambrosius was furious at having been rained on.

"Karen, I am soaked." Sarah muttered crossly as the woman hurried off to gather towels. "Find some Band-Aids too, if you don't mind." She yelled after her, anticipating many scratches on Abby after running through that downpour with a cat.

"Is it raining that hard out there?" Toby asked, coming down the stairs with Gaelle.

"Yes," Jared replied absentmindedly.

"We were planning to go see a play," Gaelle announced, sounding disappointed.

"Those are inside," Sarah noted, letting her distaste for the Gaelle in her dreams override her enjoyment of the girl's company when awake. The girl's face turned shocked.

"I'd have to _walk_ through the rain," she defended.

"For only a minute," Sarah retorted. Gaelle looked insulted and made some gesture at her head, mumbling in French.

Toby intervened saying, "We decided to go to the play Friday. But the tickets are nonrefundable, so I was going to ask if you all wanted them." He waved the tickets in the air excitedly.

"Well, I guess we might as well. As long as you're willing to watch Abby and Mel." Sarah brushed a hand through her dripping hair, hoping she would have time to dry off and fix her make up.

Karen came rushing back with fluffy, rose colored towels at that moment. Sarah furiously attacked her hair with one.

"Sure thing. I haven't spent any time with them for a while, have I?" Toby threw a wink in Melanie's direction.

"When does it begin?" Jared stepped forward, reaching for the tickets.

"Six," Gaelle huffily answered. Abby came back down the stairs, examining her arms, and pushed past Toby and his girlfriend.

"Did he scratch you, Abby?" Sarah asked cautiously. Karen, still holding two towels and a box of Snoopy Band-Aids, made a soft noise of disapproval. Apparently, anything that could hurt you even under, for it, horrifying circumstances, should not be kept as a household pet.

"Kind of. He bit me too," she pointed to a small red patch of skin on her upper arm.

Karen turned to Sarah, her brown eyes wide. "What if that cat has rabies?" She hissed. Abby looked up, frightened.

"He's had his shots, he doesn't have rabies. Doesn't look like he even bit through the skin. Come here, Abby." Sarah took the box off the top of Karen's pile of towels.

"Antibiotic ointment," Karen dashed off again.

Sarah closely inspected the cuts on Abby's arms. There were only three of them; two were bleeding slightly and the other didn't seem deep enough. The bite, indeed, was nothing serious. There were slight indentations where the cat's teeth had been, but he hadn't broken the skin.

"Well, you're going to be fine, Abby-gail." Sarah opened the box of Band-Aids, letting Abby pull three out. "But you'd better wait for Karen to get back or she'll make you take them off again."

"Are you going to make it to the play?" Toby asked, still standing on the stairs, looking slightly agitated.

"It's at six?" Sarah asked, glancing at the clock. The theater was about twenty minutes away, and it would take her at least fifteen to get ready. It was five thirty. "I don't know if we can make it."

Jared pushed the tickets into his back pocket and steered Sarah up the stairs. "We'll try, though. Thank you, Toby."

* * *

That night, Sarah sat in the living room between Jared and Melanie. Gaelle, beside Toby on the settee across the room, was carefully avoiding looking at her, or saying anything that might draw her into the conversation. Sarah noticed her father looking slightly perplexed from his armchair, and Karen simply ignoring it.

"How many movies have you been in Gaelle?" Abigail asked, sitting on the floor near her.

"Oh, six or seven, I think." She smiled warmly around the room.

"What ones? Maybe we've seen them." Karen leaned forward in her chair, sipping from a glass of water.

Gaelle faltered momentarily, then smiled brightly again. "Oh, this one now, and the one I told you about yesterday. The others were just little things in France. You wouldn't have seen any of them, I'm sure."

"Maybe we have. Robert and I sometimes see those subtitled ones in the theater downtown." Karen persisted, taking another drink. Sarah, watching Gaelle closely, noticed her twisting her fingers together; a classic nervous habit.

"Oh, no. They wouldn't have been playing here. All very low-budget, none of them any good."

"Don't be so modest, Gaelle," Toby chided, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "If you were in them, they were great."

"Oh, thank you." She smiled at him, but the lines on her forehead didn't disappear.

"What were they called?" Robert prompted, smiling kindly at her. Sarah felt Jared's hand close around hers.

"Oh, um. There was a little remake of Beauty and the Beast… I was Belle," her face brightened, now that she had found a story.

"Oh?" Karen sat her glass down on the coffee table, apparently interested. The entire room seemed to brush off the fact that she had mentioned one, which still left three or four unnamed.

"Yes, it was quite an interesting thing."

"I'd like to see it sometime, Gaelle." Toby looked at her proudly.

"How were the enchanted objects portrayed?" Sarah asked quietly.

"With… costumes."

"That would be a very large tea pot." Jared noted, chuckling at his own joke.

"Good thing. Costumes like that are hot and heavy. You get thirsty wearing them," Toby added. Gaelle beamed at him.

"I _said_ it was awful," she reminded everyone.

Sarah, slightly frustrated at not having caught the girl's lie, absentmindedly swept her hair behind her ears. She wanted to know for sure that her dreams had been real before basing any actions on them.

"What were the others, then?" Karen sat back in her chair. Sarah could see the glimmer of success in her eyes. She seemed to think Toby had found an acceptable wife, provided of course that he would marry her. Sarah was familiar with her stepmother's ways; she would subtly encourage Gaelle, act motherly towards her, and flatly _tell _Toby what she wanted.

"Oh," Gaelle paused. "I don't recall very well. One was called…" her gaze swished over the room. "Paintings."

"What was that about?" Melanie asked. Sarah was detecting acting aspirations building in both her daughters.

"Well. A painter—that was me."

"And what happened?" Toby asked. Sarah could see the annoyance evident in Gaelle's posture and tone. She suspected if she had been the only one asking the questions, Gaelle would be angry, which convinced Sarah she was hiding _something_.

"Well, my character had to find a way to make herself known, since her paintings weren't selling well. So she did all sorts of crazy things just so people would notice her."

Karen laughed and said, "Like what, dear?"

"Well," Gaelle paused. "She went skydiving. And she started throwing parties every night, so she could meet for people. She sat up an easel in the zoo and painted."

"None of those sound like _crazy_ things to do. Not anything that would really get her noticed." Toby noted. Gaelle frowned.

"I _said_ it was low-budget."

"How did you get into acting?" Sarah asked, proud of herself for subtly steering the conversation towards the girl's family.

"Oh, my father had always wanted it. My mother encouraged it," she smiled. Sarah frowned. That hadn't revealed anything.

"Where do your parents live?" Robert asked.

"France."

"Didn't you say your mom died?" Melanie asked carefully, before Sarah could.

"Well, yes," Gaelle frowned. "But she lived in France."

"You speak wonderful English to have grown up in France, don't you?" Karen smiled sympathetically over Gaelle's loss.

"My father is American. He met my mother on a trip and fell in love. He moved there a few months later. He never learned much French; we always spoke English at home. My mother insisted we become fluent in both."

"'We?'" Sarah asked. Her heart was suddenly pounding. She felt ridiculously like a child playing detective.

Gaelle's eyes widened and she faltered visibly. "Well, I-I… I meant me and my father," she mustered, sounding indignant.

"What sort of job did your father do, if he couldn't speak the language?" Jared asked, his hand tightening slightly around Sarah's. She almost didn't notice it.

"Well, he didn't have a job. My mother worked hard, cleaning houses, until she died."

"Didn't your father get a job after that?" Karen's eyebrows furrowed with worry. Sarah wondered if anyone else was picking up on the girl's suspicious responses. They certainly didn't seem to be, although they did look concerned.

"Um, well. N-not really," Gaelle said, thoroughly examining her knees. Sarah shared a startled glance with her father, then with Toby. Jared's hand tightened around hers again.

"Oh?" Karen cast a glance around the room.

"Maybe we should end this discussion," Toby suggested, watching his girlfriend with concern. Sarah frowned.


	13. Translations

_A/N: There's a bit of French in this chapter, and it's probably obvious that I don't speak it to any degree. I know the translations are wrong, please don't point that out, but if you can fix them for me, please let me know. It needs to mean what the translations at the end say they mean._

Chapter 13: Translations

_Again, Sarah sat in the corner of the room. Gaelle crouched in front of the boy, her slaps having progressed to choking him, slamming him mercilessly against the wall. Sarah fought to stop her, but still, she couldn't move. She heard the boy's head hitting the wall repeatedly, and she heard his whimpering stop. She watched Gaelle check his pulse, grimace when she found him to be alive, and leave the lightless room._

_It changed._

_The girl, Amandine, lay on a bed in the room Sarah had seen two nights before. She pressed her face against a worn, thin pillow, but the sounds of her crying were heard plainly._

_Sarah heard the door open, and then the other children, David, Oriane, and the other boy, obviously Oriane's twin, sat on the edge of the bed next to their sister's._

_"Amandine, please don't torment yourself. Gaelle will tire of her games soon." The look in his eyes said they were all tormenting themselves; she was the only one who showed it. The younger ones didn't need to see it._

_"Then she'll kill him." Her voice sounded muffled and choked._

_"She can't. She's cruel, but she's not evil. She won't kill him."_

_"Killing him would be merciful."_

_"I don't want her to," Oriane muttered. Her voice was barely audible; she had shoved her knuckles into her mouth._

_"She won't," the smaller boy comforted, pulling her fists away from her face. Sarah saw the bite marks on her fingers before she flipped them over, hiding them against the dirty, worn fabric of her dress._

_"You haven't seen him," Amandine screamed into the pillow, sobs shaking her body._

_It changed; Sarah was in the same room, but the children were gone. Gaelle, younger, sat on the furthest bed. A man stood in front of her, admiring her bare body, the shameless look in her eyes._

_"Are you getting scared now, Gilles," Gaelle taunted, leaning towards him, her mouth forming seductive 'O's._

_"_Oui. Il est difficile de tu s'il vous plaît, mon secret._" He sounded nervous; Sarah wished she knew what he said._

_"Oh? I don't think so. Why would that frighten you, anyhow? You can keep trying." Her laugh was tangible, lingering. Sarah pondered for a moment over the languages. They must both speak English, if he understood her words. She wished he would stop speaking in French._

_"_Je ne veux pas être pris. Il ne s'agit que d'un jeu pour tu._" He stepped forward, his knees bumping into the bed. Gaelle's small, delicate hands landed on his back, her face on his chest. _

_"Am I not worth it?"_

_"_C'est quelque chose que j'ai pas encore décidé_." __The man slid his shirt off in one fluid movement. Gaelle laughed again. Her hands moved to his hips, her fingertips slid beneath the waist of his pants._

_"You're free to leave, Gilles. I'm not keeping you here." She lay back on the bed, keeping hold of him and gently forcing him to follow._

_"_Tu êtes, de manière que tu êtes trop jeune pour comprendre._" She moved her fingers up, tracing patterns on his bare back._

_"I'm too young for nothing. Certainly I've proven that by now." Her facial expression was amused; she seemed unbothered by the obvious age difference between her and the man, Gilles. Her fingers slid up his sides, down again, and she almost casually pushed his pants down, eager to prove herself again._

_"_Non, tu êtes pécheur et lascives, mais tu ne comprenes pas les émotions, mon secret. Il n'ya rien de plus à vous que la sexualité et la haine._" Gaelle laughed, pulling his body closer to hers._

_She whispered against his neck, "I could be insulted by that, but I'll let you prove you're right." He shivered and pressed his mouth tightly against hers._

_Everything changed again. Gaelle sat at the table with her mother, her face hidden behind her red, swollen hands._

_"You won't _tell_ me, Gaelle? I did not raise my first born to be secretive and immoral! Tell me, Gaelle, tell me who your baby's father is!" The woman yelled. Gaelle furiously slammed her hands down onto the table, apparently not for the first time. Her mother winced at the sound._

_"No, _Mère_, no! I won't tell you, and I won't change my mind about it!"_

_"You're a whore, Gaelle! You're no better! You tell me, _now_!"_

_"No, _Mère_!" Gaelle once more ran down the hallway, Sarah assumed to the bedroom._

_It changed again. The woman sat beside Gaelle on the tattered couch, holding her around her shoulders. The girl's eyes were dry and unforgiving._

_"I meant none of it, my daughter. I meant none of it. I love you, you know I do. I want what's best for you. I can't help you if you keep secrets from me. I meant none of it. You made a mistake, I'm sure you see that as well as I do. That doesn't make you a bad person, Gaelle. It was wrong of me to say those things. I was hurt, and thinking only of myself."_

* * *

Again, the window was open. Sarah got out of bed to shut it.

She paused to stare out at the red, yellow and orange leaves of the trees. The air was dry unlike the other mornings, surprising because of the storm the night before. She had no doubts now; the dreams were too vivid, and she remembered them clearly. They were in no way like her normal dreams. And the French; she knew no French whatsoever. Her mind couldn't possibly have conjured up fake words that just sounded similar to the language. She needed to make sure, though, and she wanted to know what had been said. Surprisingly, she remembered even the dialogue perfectly, especially the man's unknown words.

She got dressed quickly, hoping the book store would be open on Thanksgiving.

Sarah found a small notebook in her purse, wrote a quick note for Jared, fed Ambrosius, and hurried downstairs.

The car was still slightly jumbled with travel-junk; there were books, a soda can, a couple of lip glosses and a hair brush in the back seat. Sarah found her missing five dollars under the passenger seat and a bottle of aspirin on the dashboard.

* * *

The Borders book store was closed. Frustrated, Sarah glared at its locked doors, wishing her father and Karen would finally get a computer.

* * *

Relieved, Sarah stepped through the used book store's doors. She had frequented this place when she was a teenager, since the books were much cheaper and her father had refused to keep buying her new ones all the time, at the usual price. Xavier's Used Books had saved her from a life of misery; in her opinion at that time, anyway. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before going to Borders. Of course, she was much less likely to find what she needed here, but….

"Excuse me… do I know you?" The woman behind the counter asked. Sarah smiled at the familiar sight of Rhetta Owens, the shop's keeper since Sarah had been going there. Her father, Xavier Owens, had opened the store in his youth. She had told Sarah all about the shop's history once.

"Yes, I'm Sarah Williams. Well, I used to be. Sarah Bowrie, now. I used to come in here all the time."

"Oh! Sarah! I remember now," the kindly woman rushed around the counter to envelope her in a hug. She looked almost exactly as Sarah remembered, other than her hair was greyer and there were a few more wrinkles around her eyes. "How've you been, honey? It's been ages, hasn't it?"

"Oh, it's been fourteen years or so. We moved away after I had my first baby. She's fifteen now."

"That's wonderful! I assume she's a reader, too? How many more do you have?" The woman casually made her way back around the counter, hopping slightly to reach her stool.

"Just one more. They're both readers," Sarah smiled, radiating pride.

"Well, I'd love to meet them. How long will you be in town?"

"We're heading home Saturday morning. I'll see if they want to come by Friday. I wish I could find a good used book store near home for them. The only ones specialize in… well, they're too young for it."

Rhetta smiled and laughed. "Well, is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Yes, actually. I was hoping you might have a French to English dictionary?"

"Well, I'm afraid I don't know off the top of my head, and our computer's acting up today. But the reference section is right there, behind you."

Sarah turned, examining the shelf behind her; encyclopedias and dictionaries, mostly.

Down on the bottom of the shelf, she found what she was looking for. It was old and worn; a few loose pages fluttered to the floor when she pulled it out. She picked them up and tucked them in the back. She could return them to their rightful places later.

"Did you find it?" Rhetta asked good-naturedly from behind the counter.

"Yeah, there's a little one here. It's in pretty poor condition, but I'll take it."

* * *

Sarah sat in the car, the small notebook from her purse on her lap next to the dictionary. She had written down each of the man's words on a separate piece of paper, including all the ways she thought it could be spelt. She would need a new notebook after this, though….

Gently, so as to not damage it further than it already was, she opened the book. Remembering the loose pages, she turned to the back and lifted them out. They were the same faded yellow color as the other pages, printed in the same patchy text, but she knew the words had not originally been there. She knew someone had put them there for her, and she thought she knew who.

She also knew it was all true, whether or not these words mattered at all, and they probably didn't. But it was all true.

_Oui. Il est difficile de vous s'il vous plaît, mon secret - Yes, it is difficult to please you, my secret._

Je ne veux pas être pris. Il ne s'agit que d'un jeu pour vous - I do not want to be caught. This is only a game for you.

C'est quelque chose que j'ai pas encore decide - That is something I have yet to decide.

Vous êtes, de manière que vous êtes trop jeune pour comprendre - You are, in ways that you are too young to understand.

Non, vous êtes pécheur et lascives, mais vous ne comprenez pas les émotions, mon secret. Il n'ya rien de plus à vous que la sexualité et la haine - No, you are sinful and lustful, but you do not understand emotions, my secret. There is nothing more to you than sexuality and hatred.


	14. Eavesdropping

_A/N: Again, thank you all **very** much for your reviews, etc. :D You make me a happy little writer._

Chapter 14: Eavesdropping

"Pass the pepper please, Sarah? …Sarah? _Sarah!_"

"Oh…. Yes, Karen?" Sarah looked up from her turkey, shocked by Karen's sudden yells.

"Could you _please_ pass the _pepper_, Sarah?" Frustrated and angry, Karen tossed her fork onto her plate to focus her full attention on glaring at her stepdaughter, who quickly handed over the small glass shaker. "_Thank you_, Sarah."

Choosing not to reply, Sarah resumed her examination of her food. She felt like a little kid, being reprimanded by her stepmother, who, despite her grey hair and failing eyesight, was thoroughly intimidating when she wished to be.

Thanksgiving was usually a holiday Sarah enjoyed immensely, but this one wasn't working out for her. She was preoccupied and upset over Gaelle's secretive past, and her distraction was obviously grating on Karen's nerves. She still felt halfway insane for believing these dreams, and she had yet to decide how she was having them. To make it all worse, she didn't know what to do. She couldn't leave Toby to fall in love with and possible marry such an abusive, dishonest woman, but what was she to tell him?

No one seemed to be missing Sarah's input in their conversation; they covered politics, the amount of homework kids were receiving, the pros and cons of low-heeled boots, unicorns, Saturday morning cartoons, alcoholism, and which brand of deodorant smelled the best, as well as all things related. Sarah felt Jared's elbow occasionally nudge her and curious eyes examine her, but she wasn't sure what to say to anyone. She'd managed to help Karen prepare the dinner without too much trouble by simply obeying her commands without question. She had been relieved when Gaelle's offers of assistance were turned down; Karen claimed she didn't want to overwork the guests.

Gaelle was eventually convinced to tell some more about her family. She was as vague as possible; no one seemed to notice.

* * *

In her old bedroom, Sarah looked over the thin, yellowed pages from the dictionary. She was slightly afraid they would crumble at her touch, so she quickly tucked them in the book and placed it in her suitcase.

She went around, methodically tidying the room. They were staying for another day, but Sarah had nothing else to do. Besides, she hated feeling like a burden to Karen, it made her feel like she owed her.

She folded her clothes and stacked them in her suitcase, she straightened the draperies, she threw out the note she'd left that morning, wiped up a bit of spilled water from her glass.

She sat down on the end of the bed, looking for something else to do. The room had been neat before she started….

"Sarah, what are you doing up here?" Toby asked suddenly, pushing the door open a few inches.

"Oh, I was just… cleaning a bit. I don't want to leave a mess for your mom."

"She doesn't mind, even though she has been a bit angry with you." He entered the room, leaning casually against the wall. Obviously he knew something and fancied himself cunning and mysterious. Sarah almost chuckled.

"Any reason why?"

"She says you're being rude to Gaelle."

"Am I?" Sarah eyed her half-brother, interested in where this was going. He didn't seem the slightest bit upset by any of it, just amused.

"Maybe," he glanced around the door. "But it's nothing serious, Sarah—me and Gaelle, I mean. Mom's going to have a hard time with that, but she's going to have to deal with it. I mean, Gaelle's great, but I've been having some creepy dreams about her that I can't really shake off. So, you can stop acting all… however you're acting..." Sarah's eyebrows shot up. She fought to maintain an air of distant curiosity.

"How long have you been having these dreams?"

Toby burst out laughing. "You sound like a shrink, Sarah. But, uh… maybe the past three nights or so. I mean, they're probably nothing to do with Gaelle, really. But it's her in the dream and I'd like to get away from that."

"What are the dreams about?" Sarah let some of her interest show. Had he been having the same dreams? How would that make sense?

"Gaelle," Toby laughed, pushing his slightly-too-long hair off his forehead. "But really, it's her and a bunch of kids. The dream's nothing serious, Sarah. I just wanted to let you know so you would quit acting weird, okay?"

"Yes, Toby. Thank you. And I didn't realize I was acting strangely towards her, just for the record." Chuckling quietly, he left the room. Sarah's gaze fell on the doorknob as it _click_ed shut. Having the dreams herself was one thing, but if Toby was having them too, it was entirely different. She thought back to her previous assumption: the Goblin King. But why? For the sheer enjoyment of watching her lose her mind?

She didn't like the way things were going. So many things to remind her of him; she saw a long-haired blonde man driving a dilapidated truck that morning, Karen had set peach scented candles throughout the house, she'd seen a tiny dog wearing a purple sweater and a red scarf and instantly thought of the worm…. Before the Halloween Fair, it had been years since she had thought of Jareth and the Labyrinth during the day. Now it was all invading her life daily.

She sighed, hoping it wasn't going to continue. She didn't know how she was going to live with herself if it did….

* * *

"Aren't there any of these places at home?" Melanie sat her bag down on the seat beside her and set to rummaging through it, as if she didn't already know what she had bought.

"Well, no. I've been looking for one, but there just aren't good ones." Sarah turned the key in the ignition, satisfied with the _click_s of the girls' seatbelts.

"That's stupid," Melanie commented, sounding distracted.

For the ride home, Abby and Mel stayed absorbed in their new books. Sarah had let them pick out a few more than Jared had agreed to, but she didn't think he'd really mind; they _were_ cheaper this way.

* * *

Sighing, Sarah zipped her suitcase shut. She loved seeing her family, but this hadn't been the most enjoyable of visits. She ran a hand through her hair, wishing it would quit falling into her face.

She would be spending one more night there. She was fairly certain she would have the dreams again—she just hoped they would stop when she got home, away from Gaelle.

Footsteps coming up the stairs drew her out of her thoughts. She listened as they went past the bedroom. The door to the next room, Toby's room, opened. A few moments later, she heard a voice; a distinctive, accented voice. She stood and gently stepped to the wall, pressing herself against it. She was almost ashamed of herself, but she reasoned that it was alright, since she… kind of had proof.

"Where have you been?" Gaelle's voice was distant; Sarah could barely make out the words. "I've called for two days and no one has answered the phone. Where have you been?" Sarah let out her breath during the pause. "I don't want excuses, David. I want to know where you have been."


	15. Surprising Callers

_A/N: Sorry it's been a while since I updated this; I was visiting my cousin then I had to unpack and such... Anyway, I didn't really look over this chapter before adding it, so let me know if there are any ridiculous typos or something. And as always, thank you for your reviews. :)_

Chapter 15: Surprising Callers

Sarah forcibly pressed the 'end' button on the phone and threw it onto the chair. She had called her father to let him know they had gotten home, just as he had asked. Karen, however, had decided to 'have a word with' Sarah before allowing Robert near the phone. Out of everything she had said, the thing that frustrated her most was that Karen had waited to say it over the phone.

No one else was in the room, so Sarah allowed herself a few angry tears before heading up the stairs. She had been getting along with Karen wonderfully for years. She would have thought they had come to like each other enough to avoid situations such as this; turning on each other because of actions towards someone else.

Sighing, Sarah headed for the stairs. It was early, only nine, but Jared was already asleep. He had been too sick to drive home; he'd started out fine that morning, but as the day progressed, he had begun coughing and had eventually asked Sarah to switch him places. Even more worried, she sent him up to bed immediately after walking through the door. His lack of a protest didn't improve her state of mind.

The unpacked suitcases against the wall made Sarah feel untidy and inexplicably aggravated. However, she didn't have the energy to take care of it. It could be done in the morning.

* * *

Monday evening, Jared still looked sickly and had a cough, but he refused to do as Sarah said and went to work. She sat in the study, Ambrosius curled on her lap, and worried about him until she went to bed. The cat followed her and lay down on Jared's pillow; she couldn't say why this bothered her, but it did. Feeling bad for him, she let him stay. The girls weren't paying as much attention to him as they used to, which was something she knew she should have expected. He was becoming more and more attached to Sarah.

She doubted she would be falling asleep that night, but she was surprised by how tired she felt once she laid down.

Sarah felt Jared fall into bed next to her that night, but she fell back asleep before she thought to ask him how he felt.

* * *

Jared continued going to work, but his illness stayed. To Sarah, it didn't seem to be getting any worse, and he still refused to see a doctor about it. Abigail and Melanie seemed to notice after a few weeks and helped their mother to encourage him to go, but it proved useless. He kept claiming to be feeling better, although it was obvious he wasn't.

Sarah, despite her constant worrying over her husband, was feeling better. The dreams had stopped since leaving Virginia. She had pointedly avoided talking to Karen since then, calling her father occasionally at times she was certain Karen would busy, usually preparing dinner. It bothered her faintly that she didn't hear a cheery, "Tell Sarah hello," in the background along with the _clink_ of pots and pans. Robert had said nothing about Karen's change in demeanor towards his daughter, and Sarah wondered if he had even noticed. He was usually an attentive and intelligent enough fellow, but women were generally beyond his understanding; he rarely even speculated on Karen or Sarah's actions anymore, a habit Sarah was somewhat afraid Jared was picking up on.

Sarah had spoken with a few other people. The names blinking onto the phone's small screen had startled yet pleased her when she saw them.

Sarah pushed the building's door open with her shoulder, rather enthused to leave work after the manuscript she had been given that morning. She had gone through four Tylenols and six cups of coffee trying to get through the first chapter. She loved fantasy stories, but she wasn't really so sure about a green-tongued monster who spoke only in grammatical errors while on a quest to find his lost dog.

The air outside was cold, and snow fell onto her cheeks as soon as she took a step away from the building. She glanced up at the sky, trying to recall if the forecast had said snow or not that morning; she didn't think it had. She was pleased, though, as she walked around the tall, grey stone building to the parking lot. It was mid-December and hadn't snowed yet; she loved for the world to turn glistening and white.

Her nose and fingertips were numb when she reached her car and slid into the seat. Quickly, she turned the heater on. Her cell phone rang before she could back out of the parking space.

'Mom's cell' was the caller. Sarah dumbly stared at the phone for a minute. Her mother hadn't called her in years…. The last time Sarah could remember talking to her had been well over two years before, and she had been the one to make the phone call.

"Hello," she put real effort into sounding cheerful rather than confused. She was thrilled that her mother was calling her, but the curiosity did win out.

"Sarah? It's your mom, how have you been?"

"Well, I'm fine, Mom. How are you?" She leaned against the steering wheel, wondering where this was going.

"I'm great, honey, just great."

"That's good," Sarah said, trying to postpone the inevitable 'awkward pause.'

"Well," Linda began after a moment. "Um, I was calling to ask about your plans for Christmas. Are you going to your father's?" Startled, Sarah fought the urge to hold the phone out and stare at it.

"I don't know. I was thinking about inviting Dad and Karen here instead, but they would probably insist I go there. Were you planning something?" She was halfway hoping something that would prevent her from seeing Karen would come up. She felt cowardly, avoiding her like she was, but she still wasn't sure how she should be acting towards her. Hostile? Defensive? As if nothing had happened?

"Not so much planning as hoping, Sarah. I'd really like to see you—and your girls. I've missed you awfully. You could come here or I could go there, whichever would be better for you." Surprising, indeed. Sarah doubted most of that. She could have called and arranged something before if she missed her so badly. The entire thing sounded too… motherly. Linda _was_ a good actress.

"Well, that would be good. Abby and Mel should get to see their grandma more often. Where are you living now?"

"New York, these days," Linda said with a chuckle, as if she couldn't be expected to be anywhere else. "It'd be a lovely trip for you all if you want to come here."

"Well, I'll discuss it with Jared and call you later. At this number, or your home number?"

"Oh, this one, please. We just moved into the apartment here last week. Still haven't gotten a phone. I'm just functioning off my cell!" She laughed, the light, lilting laugh that she had been known for in her early years. 'Tantalizing,' Sarah had seen one magazine say. 'The true sound of a seductress,' a critic had claimed. Those things had secretly pleased her when she had been young—she had sometimes sat at her vanity and practiced a similar laugh, imagining the days when she would be compared to her movie star mother. She had dreams of appearing in movies with her when she got older, but by the time she got to that age she had taken notice of the real efforts that went into acting and her dreams had faded. She had watched carefully the way her mother took on a role and became the woman she was playing, and every time had turned off the television, feeling inadequate. She had been in a few plays in high school; she had even played the lead in one. But by her senior year, the other kids were outshining her and she couldn't figure out why. Then her hopes died completely; the last play of her senior year, she had been cut. She got nothing, not even a spot in the crowd of townspeople.

"Ok, I'll call you tonight or tomorrow. Bye," Sarah said, suppressing a sigh. She didn't like thinking of those times.

She realized a little too late that Linda had used the word 'we.' '_We_ just moved into the apartment….' Apparently, she had another rich, attractive boyfriend, but that was nothing new. Knowing her mother's scandalous nature, Sarah wouldn't be surprised if he was much younger than she. The last one Sarah had met was thirty, compared to Linda's respective age of fifty-six.

* * *

"There you are," Sarah noted, stepping into the bedroom. Jared still lay in bed, watching a movie on the TV across the room.

"Yeah. I have to get up soon though."

"You should stay home if you feel too bad. I'll make you an appointment with the doctor…." Sarah sat gently on the edge of the bed and trailed her fingers across his forehead. He had had a slight temperature for a few days, but it had gone back down. She was afraid it would come back. If so, she would make him go to the doctor—not that she wasn't planning on it if he didn't feel better by the next week.

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine, really."

"You are not," Sarah declared firmly.

"Yes I am, Sarah."

She sighed, knowing it was pointless. She would call and make him an appointment anyway.

"My mother called me."

"What?" Jared looked up at her. She almost laughed at his reaction—it was so similar to her own.

"My mother. She called, and wants to see us for Christmas. She's living in New York now, with someone, but I didn't ask who. She said she'll come here if we don't want to go there."

"Do you want to see her?" The essential question.

"I'm not sure," Sarah replied honestly. Sighing, she lay on the bed beside him and hid her face against his shoulder. "I guess I should, shouldn't I? Haven't for years anyway."

"You don't have to. We can go see your dad and Karen like we always do, if you want. Or, we could create chaos and invite everyone here."

Sarah laughed. That _would_ be chaos. Linda still resented Robert greatly. Karen was jealous because she had Robert first. Linda thought Karen was frustratingly dull. The result of luring them all into one house would almost definitely be Sarah's mother throwing things at her father, Karen hanging off him like a teenager, trying to make Linda jealous, and Robert attempting to calmly talk some sense into both of them. Sarah had seen it happen before….

"What do you want to do?" She asked Jared.

"It's up to you. They're your family." Sarah sighed again. She usually felt obliged to offer sympathy when that came into a conversation. Jared's parents had died in a house fire just months before she had met him. He had moved in with his great aunt but she had died of a heart attack not 

long after. The parents of one of his friends had allowed him to live with them, since he had no family left. Not that could, or would, take the responsibility, anyway.

"You're stuck with them, too."

"That may be so, but it's still up to you."

* * *

The telephone beside the bed woke Sarah less than thirty minutes later. She was surprised to find the heat of Jared's body gone when she opened her eyes, but she heard him moving around in the bathroom.

The phone rang shrilly again, and she rolled over and picked it up, pressing the 'talk' button before she thought to see who it was.

"Hello," she muttered groggily.

"Hey, Sis," the voice greeted her through the phone. Someone else who hadn't called her in a while.

"Hi, Toby. How're you?"

"You sound tired, Sarah…. I'm good, though. How about you?"

"Yeah, I'm good too." She closed her eyes, expecting another pause similar to the one with Linda.

"Good. Gaelle won't go away." That wasn't exactly a pause.

"What," Sarah sat up, confused. He said it would be over just after Thanksgiving… it was almost Christmas. "She won't go away? But… you're a boy…. _You're_ supposed to stalk _her_, Toby!"

"What?" He laughed.

"I didn't mean that…. I meant that's how it usually goes…. Not to say that I think you should stalk her, or anyone."

"I don't have to stalk her, Sarah. She moved in with me."

"What?" Sarah closed her eyes again and leaned her face against her palm. An awkward pause would have been better than what she was hearing. She the shower turn on in the bathroom.

"I didn't ask her to. Well, I might've, actually. Kind of. In a way. But I didn't mean to…. She's kind of… manipulative. I didn't have a choice. I did break up with her though. But then a few days later she went to my house and she looked really… great. And so then she asked what she'd done wrong and wanted me to take her back, and I couldn't really turn her down 'cause she looked so sad and she was crying and everything. So then… well, she spent the night and she kind of didn't leave."

"Oh God, Toby. Can't you just _tell_ her to leave?" Sarah leaned against the headboard, not entirely sure why this was so mindlessly frustrating.

"No! I don't want to hurt her…. Besides, the only reason I was going to break up with her was those dreams. So I was thinking, what if I gave it another shot?"

"If that's what you want," Sarah made a noise of agitation. "You don't need my permission."

"Well, no. But you obviously don't like her, so I wanted to warn you: I'm taking her home again for Christmas."

"We're going to my mother's this year."


	16. Biographies

_Author's Notes: I'm sorry, very very sorry, about the amount of time between updates now. I've had a lot to do and worry about, and other writing projects that have been vying for my attention. I fully intend to complete this story (I'd feel awful, leaving you all in the middle of it, not to mention disappointed in myself for not persisting.) So, it may take a while, but please don't give up on me, 'kay? Again, I'm very sorry for the wait, and I'm also sorry I couldn't provide you with a more interesting chapter to try to make up for it._

Chapter 16: Biographies

"Are you _sure_ you're up for this?" Sarah sat on the end of the bed, almost in tears. Jared sat beside her, doubled over with harsh sounding coughs. He had only been getting worse. She had called the doctor once and simply been dismissed; it was winter, everyone was coughing, don't worry unless he got nauseous or developed a high fever. A few days later, she had called again and been told the same thing. Apparently it didn't matter that it had been going on for a month or that Jared _never_ got ill. If he wasn't vomiting and didn't have a fever, it was fine, they said. Sarah could've scheduled an appointment anyway, but she knew Jared wouldn't agree to go easily.

"Yes," he straightened back up, sending her a disapproving glare. She constantly asked if he was alright, if he was feeling worse, if he felt like doing this or doing that, and it was starting to annoy him.

"We don't have to go. I can call Mom and say we can't make it."

"We're going, Sarah." Jared stood and pulled Sarah to her feet. He kissed her gently and offered a smile. She smiled weakly in return and leaned her forehead against his neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm really worried about you."

"I know."

* * *

Melanie had taken to her usual complaints in the car. Sarah couldn't blame her much this time; New York City was more exciting than Richmond, Virginia, even if they would be spending most of their time indoors. Sarah, for one, wasn't enthused about touring the city during a snowstorm, so she'd promised Abigail and Melanie a summer trip to see their grandma.

By the time they entered the city, Sarah could hardly resist asking if they were there yet, herself.

Finally, they were.

* * *

"Sarah!" The door was flung open as soon as Sarah stood before it, and arms encircled her tightly. Anyone else would've thought Linda Williams was thrilled to see her daughter.

"Mom," Sarah managed before the woman moved back. Sarah was surprised at how young her mother looked; she would probably be mistaken for 'older half-sister' or something similar before one would guess their relationship. Of course, Linda was still a famed actress; her beauty was valued and taken care of. Her hair was the same dark brown color as Sarah's—her natural color, presumably obtained with dye. Slight wrinkles were showing around her dazzling emerald-colored eyes and the corners of her mouth, but the rest of her skin was flawless. Her long, dark lashes were an important part of her prized image, but she had toned it down for a family gathering.

"Abigail, Melanie!" Linda swooped in to hug the startled girls, releasing them quickly and ushering the group into her apartment. She gave Jared a pat on the shoulder and a smile as he filed past.

"Hello," Sarah felt awkward speaking to the shirtless, young male standing in her mother's foyer. Linda laughed as she slipped an arm around his waist.

"This is Abraham Brooks, acting protégé. You can call him Abe, but I personally prefer thinking of him as 'Ham.'" She laughed, the same seductive laugh that had made her famous. Sarah's stomach twisted and she fought the urge to clamp her hands over her daughters' ears. She noticed the man in question glancing sheepishly around. He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed at the tiled floor intently.

"Mom," she muttered, making frantic gestures with her eyes.

"Abe, this is my daughter Sarah, her husband, Jared, and their daughters, Abigail and Melanie."

"It's uh… nice to meet you all." Abe mumbled at the floor.

"Um, it's nice to, uh, meet you too," Sarah and Jared mumbled in unison while Abby and Mel shuffled their feet awkwardly.

"Anyway," Linda carried on, oblivious to everyone's reactions. "Come this way, I'll show you where you're staying." She grabbed Sarah's wrist and pulled her into the living room. Sarah barely had time to take it in before she was moving through a hallway, fluffy white carpet underfoot. On the white walls, portraits of Linda were placed at four-inch intervals.

Linda opened the last door in the hallway and winked at Sarah. "This is where Abby and Melanie will be sleeping." Sarah peered around the doorframe into the luxurious bedroom.

The walls and carpet were the same as the hallway. Two twin beds with iridescent white covers sat against the right wall. Canopies of the same material offset the dark wood of the bed posts. A matching vanity, beside the door, held bottles of perfume and tubes of lipstick. Under the window on the far wall, a solid white settee held shimmering accent pillows. A bookcase against the left wall was made of the same wood as the beds and the vanity. On it, porcelain dolls and glass figurines took precedence over books. A globe sat on top, the countries carved out of what looked like gemstones; the United States was an emerald, Canada was a ruby, Russia was a sapphire and the oceans were a pale wood.

Sarah wasn't entirely sure she liked this idea; the girls wouldn't be keen to leave. Curious how it held two beds instead of one.

Sarah and Jared were ushered into the next room over. It was almost a replica of the other room, with one bed instead of two, and done in pastels. The walls were a delicate orange color, as was the rug on the middle of the hardwood floor. More collectibles and dolls were housed on the bookshelf, but instead of a globe, there was a glass vase filled with pink and white flowers. Several smaller, empty vases sat on either side.

They were shown the gold-and-silver bathroom, and then Linda hurried them into the living room.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you all again!" Linda took the soft brown armchair by the Christmas tree; the tree filled a corner of the room and was decorated with white lights and gold ornaments. Elegant.

"We're happy to see you too, Mom," Sarah assured her while examining the room and trying to avoid looking at Abe. He had put on a shirt, but still… Sarah wasn't entirely sure how she felt about a man her mother referred to as 'Ham.' He looked no more than 25, too…. Sarah knew she should have asked about that. If she had known, there was no way she would've taken Abigail and Melanie there.

* * *

The next morning, Linda took the girls out for a quick tour of 'the important places.' Sarah was relieved when they returned around three; she had spent the entire day trying to avoid Abe. Most of it had been spent in the bedroom, looking over the meager selection of books on the shelves. Most of them were on acting, and one was a rough biography of Linda written by Donald C. Wasing. Sarah had never heard of him, and a glance at the first page proved why. He wasn't very good. She flipped through the pages anyway, startled by how incorrect most of the information was.

Linda Eleanor Matthews had been born in Richmond Virginia; the book claimed it had been in Florida. Her parents had been Martha and Jack—Sarah had never met them, but she did know their names weren't Marguerite and Clayton, and neither of them had been playwrights. The book mentioned Linda's brief marriage to Robert Williams, and that just months after the wedding, Linda's rise to fame had begun. It said Linda attributed it to her new name, and consequently kept it after the divorce—at least that part was true.

Sarah noted that the book failed to mention her. She knew her mother had been pregnant during her first film and managed to hide it. Her part in the movie was in danger, and Sarah was certain that even after she had been born, her mother had wanted nothing to do with her because she still saw her as a threat to her career. Apparently that was remedied by lying to the biographer.

When Linda and the girls returned, Sarah thought it best to pretend she had never seen the book.

At dinner that night, Linda mentioned another biography being in the works. Sarah was startled by the coincidence and wondered if her mother had intended for her to see the other one.

"Don't you already have four?" Abe asked.

"Well, yes. But this one will be much better," Linda winked conspiratorially at him. "I would like all of you to speak to the writer about yourselves and the time you've spent with me."

* * *

"I'm not sure about that, Jared." Sarah paced the room in her blue plaid pajamas.

"Neither am I. I think it would be okay, if we stay there and hear what the girls say. As long as your mother will agree to have the author sign a contract; anything the girls say that we don't want in there has to go." Jared watched her from the bed. It was 12:03 AM, officially Christmas Eve. She had been angrily walking about for over an hour.

"I suppose so, but you can't always trust those people. I don't even want their _names_ in that book."

"I know, Sarah. But you heard Linda; two of her biographies have already mentioned the girls."

"Is that legal?" She moved to sit on the bed. Her feet were tired, even though she wasn't. She had told him about the biography on the bookshelf, and he had sounded sympathetic, but now it didn't make much sense to her. She was upset because she hadn't been in that book, but she didn't want the girls to be mentioned.

"If it left out their names."

"Did it?"

"I would think so. How about this: your name, in the biography, is only Sarah Williams. My, Abby and Melanie's first names will be used, but no last names."

"Maybe. I want to think about it for a few days."


	17. Christmas

_A/N: I am immensely sorry for the wait. As I said before, I've had school and other ideas fighting to keep me away from you all, plus I've been sick and thus not very inspired. I don't mean to make excuses, though - I'm very sorry. I'll try my hardest to get this story finished for you, as quickly as possible. And please take my offering of two chapters (although both are quite short) as my apology gift._

Chapter 17: Christmas

"Thank you again, Mom. You really didn't have to go so… all-out with this." Sarah admired the gold chain she pulled from the box. On it hung two sapphires flanking a small diamond—small still meaning close to twice the size of anything she owned. She felt bad for accepting such obviously expensive gifts, but consoled herself with memories of the Christmases and birthdays she hadn't even gotten a card from her mother.

"Oh, it's nothing, dear. Here's your last present," Sarah accepted another brightly wrapped box from her mother, marveling at how often she had been feeling like a child lately. She couldn't remember having gotten this many Christmas presents since before she moved out and 'grew up.'

The pile on the couch beside her grew with the addition of a cream-colored dress Sarah could think of no logical occasion on which to wear. She watched Abby and Mel pulling entire new wardrobes out of their gifts; they would have to be cleaning out their closets soon to fit even half of their new things in. Clothes and jewelry seemed to be the only things Linda had thought to buy—for anyone. Sarah had a difficult time imagining Jared wearing the billowy garments her mother had given him, even despite his resemblance to the Goblin King. Abe, however, across the room in an armchair, seemed perfectly happy with his nearly identical attire….

"Have you decided anything about my biography, Sarah?" Linda asked a few minutes later, sitting in the space between Sarah and Jared.

"Well, not yet…" Sarah distractedly twirled a gold bracelet around her fingers.

"Oh, hurry up," her mother joked, smoothing her delicately curled hair over her shoulders. "I'll have to let them know before New Year's."

Sarah sighed; they had already discussed this the day before. Linda had agreed that the only last name used would be 'Williams,' but Sarah had asked for a bit more time to think it over anyway. She knew her mother was already sure she would say yes, and she knew she probably would. Jared had asked about the deal he proposed, which would make it compulsory that he and Sarah to approve anything said by or about their daughters. Linda had said that would be fine if they felt it necessary.

"I'll let you know before then, Mom. Just give me a while."

"Oh, no need to get snippy, darling. I'm just teasing!"

* * *

_Her heels made sharp, commanding sounds against the white tile of the hallway. Sarah watched the woman walking towards her; obviously unaware of her presence, she still radiated charm and beauty. Her black skirt swished enticingly around her thighs and the gold of her top brought out the shiny tones of her hair. Sarah tried to look away, but she was frozen._

_Gaelle stopped at a wood door like all the others and delicately turned the knob._

_No blur or fade or anything before Sarah stood in the corner of a waiting room and watched Gaelle enter. She walked to the counter and spoke to the woman behind the glass. She signed her name on the clipboard on the counter and turned around, surveying the room. Her eyes hardened at the tall, gaunt elderly man sitting in one corner, his watery eyes idly examining his thumb nail. She smiled softly at the little blonde girl huddled close to her mother's side. Her eyes warmed when she turned to the pregnant lady against the far wall. She walked over quickly and took a seat her near._

_"Your first?" She asked, smiling. The woman, pretty but not beautiful, looked intimidated but smiled in return. One hand momentarily left her stomach to push a strand of light brown hair out of her face._

_"Yes, she will be." She looked as if she felt awkward, having nothing more to say._

_"Are you scared?" Gaelle asked kindly, folding her hands on her lap._

_"Oh, a bit. What mother isn't?" The woman chuckled and glanced over at Gaelle, who politely joined her laughter. "Are you… um… expecting?" The woman turned her gaze to the floor._

_"Well, actually that's what I'm here to confirm. But I must say, I'm sure," Gaelle also watched the floor, but a small smile stayed on her lips._

* * *

Sarah woke in the pastel-colored bedroom and gazed about for a moment, startled. Then the dreams came back; another one, and Gaelle was nowhere near.

"Damn," Sarah slid out of bed and moved to the window. She closed it, and twisted her hands into fists around the mint green curtain. Sighing, she closed her eyes and let her forehead fall against the glass. She had thought the dreams were over; there hadn't been one since Thanksgiving.

She opened her eyes and gasped.

A delicate white feather lay at her feet.


	18. Personal Opinions

_A/N: Added two chapters at once. Please make sure you have read Chapter 17: Christmas before reading this one. :)_

Chapter 18: Personal Opinions

On the drive home, Sarah stayed to herself. With her head resting against the window and a soft blanket pulled around her, she thought, analyzed, questioned, and evaluated.

Jared hadn't opened the window the night before. She had taken a different approach than before; instead of asking him directly about the windows, she asked how he had slept. Then she asked if he had been hot. He claimed to have slept wonderfully at a normal temperature. _Then_ she had casually mentioned the window, and not failed to notice the complete surprise on his face. His expression turned dark, and he had left the room.

Later, Linda had pulled Sarah away from the rest of her family and whispered, "Your Jared's a bit obsessive about security systems, isn't he, dear?"

Sarah assumed Jared had stormed out because he thought Linda didn't have an adequate security system or something of that nature. She couldn't figure out why he hadn't done the same at her father's, though—unless he really had opened the window there, but what about the identical feathers? Coincidence, maybe, but she doubted it.

* * *

"Did you have a good Christmas with your mother?" Robert asked, somewhat stiffly.

"Yes, we all did. How did it go back home?" Sarah leaned against the arm of the couch, feeling bad. She knew her father didn't resent her mother like she resented him, but it obviously hurt him that she chose to go to New York for Christmas instead.

"Good, good. Toby brought Gaelle again. Karen is hoping they'll have an announcement to make soon." He sounded a little happier there…. Sarah suppressed a groan.

"Toby's too young for that."

"Sarah, you're being a hypocrite. He's twenty-one. May I ask how old you were when you got married?"

"It's a different situation, Dad. Actresses are vengeful, flighty beings. I'd think _you_ know that," Sarah defensively pointed out. She had been far more mature at eighteen than Toby was at twenty-one, anyway; her trip through the Labyrinth and her relationship with Jared had insured that. And no one had had troubling dreams about Jared, either….

"Well, I know your mother sure is," Robert laughed. "But Gaelle is a sweet girl. She would be good for Toby. We all like her, too—oh… you don't like her, do you?" Sarah almost laughed at his clumsy realization.

"I've nothing against Gaelle, Dad. I just think Toby's too young, and his mother of all people should realize that. I think Karen's a little more focused on having a pretty, talented woman for a daughter-in-law than on what would ultimately make Toby happy."

"An enlightening speech," her father chuckled. Sarah ran a hand through her hair and glanced at the clock. 9:32 PM. They'd been on the phone for over twenty minutes and had said practically nothing; she was getting tired. But she did at least owe him a phone conversation after choosing to spend Christmas with her mother. "My opinion is that… you might be right about Karen, but I think being put in a position you deem him too young for would force him to grow up. Karen should stop her subtle encouragements and let them make their decisions on their own."

Sarah wasn't sure yet if she enjoyed or disliked these debate-like conversations she had with her father.

"I think Karen should _definitely _stop encouraging them. I also think you should tell her that," she laughed. "Or you could tell them not to listen to her."

"I might do that."


End file.
